fragments of places i’ve been and people i’ve dreamed of. a study in stillness, distortion, and the strange sweetness of memory. these images are something to hold - to linger on the skin. collected in the quiet abyss of the mind, lost, then resurfacing, dissociating within their own familiarity. they’re here to cradle you in a moment, pressing themselves forward - offering a sense of placement, somewhere just beneath understanding. and there we are reminded, through echos of true pause and true notice. this our mother tongue. a language we’ve nearly forgotten. but our mouths ache to whisper again.