Haven’t used my Canon camera in awhile with my favorite 100mm macro lens. So, I broke it out to use on some Snapdragons that came back up from last year.

she stood outside the barbershop, cigarette in hand, scrolling through her phone. the man in the poster stared blankly, detached, larger than life but lifeless. i lifted the camera, and she caught me. her eyes narrowed, sharp and unamused. i pressed the shutter anyway. for a second, it felt like she might curse me, but instead, she laughed. i showed her the photo, and her disapproval melted into humor. "good shot," she said, taking another drag. the poster man said nothing.

Their silence speaks loud—

a language of wind and leaf,

teaching me to breathe.

I came here to paint, but the silence said more than the brush ever could.

In real life, I’ve been carrying a weight I can’t explain.

So I sit still, pretending that mixing colors might fix something inside me.

Maybe it won't. But for a moment, I get to feel quiet

and that’s enough.

A long, weathered wooden pier stretches into the calm waters of Sortlandssundet, its decaying planks and moss-covered railings telling stories of time and tide. Captured from Ånstadsjøen, the view looks eastward across the sound toward Kringleveien, where snow-capped mountains rise beneath a heavy, clouded sky. The stillness of the water mirrors the quiet grandeur of the landscape, evoking a sense of solitude and timelessness in Norway’s northern fjordlands.

Locked eyes in the rush of departure.

Olympus OM-D E-M5 Mk.II

M.Zuiko 45mm/f1.8

*PaperMacroART*

A sweeping summer view of Kok Zhailau in the Almaty region, where lush alpine meadows and dramatic skies meet in serene harmony beneath the Tien Shan peaks.

she holds the cigarette like a thought not yet spoken — suspended, unfinished. the smoke curls into the dusk with the grace of something that remembers how to vanish. it’s not about rebellion. it’s about time slowing down just enough to breathe in stillness and exhale a whisper.

a man paused mid-step, caught between sand and signal. headphones wrapped him in silence, the screen offered a world quieter than the sea behind him. the promenade kept moving. he didn’t.

the Castle of the Winds

A Portrait

this moment caught in london’s brutalist heart balances solitude and structure — a man framed by the coiled ribs of raw concrete, held in a diagonal beam of afternoon light. the silence of the architecture speaks louder than the subject, as if the building itself paused to breathe. shadow and geometry entwine with human stillness.

a quiet beach in Palma de Mallorca at dusk, two silhouettes are caught mid-run along the shore. The sky hangs heavy with soft clouds, and the faint glow of a setting sun bathes the scene in warm, muted light. The reflections in the shallow pools beneath their feet seem to mirror the movement of the runners, adding a layer of fluidity to the image. It's as if the earth and sky are locked in a gentle conversation, the rhythmic footsteps punctuating the stillness. This is the kind of moment where time seems to blur—where day and night, land and sea, all blend into one.

༶•┈┈┈┈┈┈୨♡୧┈┈┈┈┈┈•༶

"Lorsque nous appliquons la philosophie du Hygge, nous encadrons le moment, lui accordons toute notre attention, le savourons et le retenons, conscients que le moment passera. Nous sentons comment un moment se superpose au suivant ; le passé et le présent se mêlant, tout se mettant en place d'un même accord."

"When we hygger, we frame the moment, give it our full attention, savour and hold it, in an awareness that the moment will pass. We feel how one moment becomes layered on to the next; past and present mingled together - everything falling into place, into one accord."

- cit. Louisa Thomsen Brits -

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iPhone + RNI Films app (Agfcolor 40's)

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in the silence of midnight, porto holds its breath. a single bell tower looms against the void, its clock frozen like a heartbeat between dreams. the church rises from shadow like a relic of stillness, lit only by the reverence of light.

Golf du Morbihan, Kerguen, Arradon