A snapshot of a place that felt both wild and peaceful. I traveled with a close friend, carrying only four rolls of film, which helped me slow down and be present. We camped just steps from the lake, where hippos were never too far and birds stirred at dawn. Being so close to water, wildlife and thick vegetation brought a kind of quiet contemplation — the kind that settles in your body before your mind catches up. These images are my way of holding onto that feeling.
A study in stillness, captured along the coast of Albania. I traveled there in the off-season, when the usual summer crowds had long gone. The beach resorts — once full of life — stood empty, sun-bleached, and waiting.
There are no people in these images, just the traces they left behind: stacked chairs, quiet balconies, closed umbrellas. The absence felt peaceful, almost sacred — like the land was exhaling. I was drawn to the tension between what was and what might be again. These photographs sit in that space between seasons, where time feels paused and everything softens.