This series began during a trip to San Francisco, where the landscape quietly revealed a symbolic force I hadn’t fully recognized in myself. Moving between the city, the cliffs and the Pacific, I began to sense the relationship between consciousness and the unconscious in a more tangible way.

Consciousness appeared through form, the structure of houses, the solidity of land, the lines that hold the world together. Form allows logic, a feeling of control, a way of framing the unknown. The unconscious, in contrast, emerged through water: fluid, immense, formless, moving wherever it can. It expands, withdraws, reshapes itself, and doesn’t obey the limits that keep the visible world in place.

These two states don’t simply coexist; they lean into one another, contain one another, and sometimes reshape each other entirely. There are moments when consciousness holds the unconscious, giving it a temporary boundary. And there are moments when the unconscious softens or overflows the structures meant to contain it. Their movement is not symmetrical, nor does it seek equilibrium, it simply continues. That rhythm feels familiar because we live inside it. Our inner landscape follows the same tides, shifting between solidity and dissolution, clarity and depth.

This photographic essay tries to hold a fragment of that ongoing exchange. Not as a conclusion, but as a glimpse into how these two worlds, the defined and the fluid, move together, depend on each other, and remain inseparable even when they fall out of balance. These photographs do not aim to explain this relationship, but to acknowledge it: a quiet reminder that these forces shape us from within, and that their dialogue never stops.

Form / Flow

Invisible Night

Most don’t. They move through me quickly, turn on lights, shut their windows, pretend I’m not here. And so, I disappear. But then someone stays, still, quiet, watching. That’s when I begin to exist, I start to hold weight, I start to look back. I’m no longer just darkness. I’m a place. A body, and you are inside it.

Have you ever wondered if I’m alive?