Photography Book
9.33in x 11.33in

As a novice photographer, the novel hobby that I just undertook is, to say the least, nothing short of addictive work-out sessions, with which I would be exhilarated and exhausted from peeking into the lives of people and objects and unapologetically taking snippets of them. I have however gradually come to understand that bliss of photography is, though being emotionally charged and private, something very vain, for not everything that looks delicious through the viewfinder is guaranteed to have the equal amount of depth, and the multiple lives of a photograph never end as the shutter closes and opens again.

If photography is the semblance, so be it, and I do not have the slightest will to become a clairvoyant being. This being said, I do vigilantly seek amusement in the subjects of my photography as they behave oddly, if not foolishly, towards the shadows that haunt and enchant them. Such difference is nevertheless a semblance of the ligature that is never smooth nor sound but demarcates and ties them strictly against one another, with borders and lines, in the breathless silence.

The objects and spaces speak to the topography of the land of our being, a land of dichotomizing allures and deformities. The work visits the moments when distinct objects and spaces become intrinsically related to one another and bound by such thread, a thread that equally binds us to the land and its past, a tightrope imperative for us to walk through.