cardboard ballet
night folds its velvet curtain around the narrow streets of palma’s old town, where golden hues spill from the storefronts, casting a warm glow on a scene less ordinary. a passerby, a ghostly blur of motion, dances by a mountain of cardboard boxes piled up like an urban still life. it’s as if each box, with its own story, now rests in the after-hours of consumption, stamped with the irony of a window sign that exclaims “designed with love.” there's poetry in this juxtaposition, a silent commentary on the transient treasures we hold dear by day, discarded by night. the photo feels like a still from a film, one that captures the essence of life’s fleeting nature, a moment of transition frozen in time. the city breathes, its heartbeat palpable in the quiet shuffle of feet against cobblestone, the murmur of distant chatter, the gentle rustle of paper in the wind.
cardboard ballet
night folds its velvet curtain around the narrow streets of palma’s old town, where golden hues spill from the storefronts, casting a warm glow on a scene less ordinary. a passerby, a ghostly blur of motion, dances by a mountain of cardboard boxes piled up like an urban still life. it’s as if each box, with its own story, now rests in the after-hours of consumption, stamped with the irony of a window sign that exclaims “designed with love.” there's poetry in this juxtaposition, a silent commentary on the transient treasures we hold dear by day, discarded by night. the photo feels like a still from a film, one that captures the essence of life’s fleeting nature, a moment of transition frozen in time. the city breathes, its heartbeat palpable in the quiet shuffle of feet against cobblestone, the murmur of distant chatter, the gentle rustle of paper in the wind.