Learning How to Be Seen
There is a moment in adolescence where silence becomes louder than words. Where the instinct is to hide, not because of fear, but because the world feels unfinished and the self even more so. The hands rise as a shield, not to block the gaze, but to negotiate it, to decide how much of the truth is allowed through.
This portrait sits in that fragile space between exposure and protection. The eyes remain steady, carrying questions that have not yet learned their language. It is the tension of becoming: caught between who you were yesterday and who you are struggling to imagine tomorrow.
Learning How to Be Seen
There is a moment in adolescence where silence becomes louder than words. Where the instinct is to hide, not because of fear, but because the world feels unfinished and the self even more so. The hands rise as a shield, not to block the gaze, but to negotiate it, to decide how much of the truth is allowed through.
This portrait sits in that fragile space between exposure and protection. The eyes remain steady, carrying questions that have not yet learned their language. It is the tension of becoming: caught between who you were yesterday and who you are struggling to imagine tomorrow.