SIGHT OF HAND

Over the last two and half years, we have been separated from others, confined to our homes and hidden behind masks, seeking refuge from the unknown and hardships that came with the pandemic.

We all have our own journeys, and with that, our own stories, the ones we wrote ourselves, the ones others have written about us, and the remnants of those passed down to us by others. These stories and moments shape us, and they leave traces of themselves behind as they silently whisper their secrets into the world

I have always focused on capturing the small, often overlooked moments surrounding us. I've become increasingly enamored by how we present ourselves to those around us juxtaposed by what lies beneath, a constant search for clues. When I photograph someone, I can't help but wonder where they have been. How many stories have been collected along their journey? But most importantly, how many stories are yet to be written?