Nostalgia of  Speed

I photograph objects—flowers, trees, rural landscapes—not as symbols, but as raw materials shaped by time, and the tension between sharp and diluted awareness.
While in transit, often at dusk, I’m drawn to capture the surroundings as they fade into the periphery, leading me to reflect on the fleeting beauty of moments that typically escape unfocused attention.

Speed becomes a tool to romanticize how memory abstracts, challenging the polished, machine-curated algorithms of automated visual culture—forces that shape both personal and collective memory, redefining the perception of reality.

Motion, the essence of life, mirrors the subconscious, where awareness continuously reshapes and distorts experience. The resulting images become spaces alive with ambiguity, where the dialogue between painting and photography serves as an allegory for memory.

I invite the viewer to question the instability of their own presence: How much of what you remember is the photograph, and how much is the mind rewriting, decaying, and reliving?