A few weeks ago, during one of those late night conversations with my boyfriend, we somehow drifted into talking about melancholy. You know that weird spell the early hours seem to cast, how they quietly push you into thinking about everything and nothing at the same time. I am not really as nocturnal as he is, but for a couple of days I leaned into it and started taking some photos at that hour. Nothing fancy, no breathtaking locations. Just what I had around me. The street where I live, the sky at that time, even a window catching the first hint of morning light.
While we were talking, I could not stop thinking about how obsessed we are with this idea of status, like there is some invisible checklist we are all supposed to complete. At a certain age, after certain steps, everything should fall into place. And if it does not, well, something must be wrong with you. If I am being honest, a lot of frustration comes from exactly that. From not matching those expectations, from wanting to have things before even understanding who we are. That thought became the backbone of the photos I am sharing. There is something about the emptiness of those hours that feels strangely beautiful, even if we usually overlook it. It also makes you question things. Are we really defined by how much we have? By numbers in a bank account? By what we can buy or show? I would love to give clear answers to those questions, but I do not think I can. And maybe that is not even the point.
What I can say is that there is a connection between that quiet dissatisfaction and the need to create something. I am not calling myself an artist or anything like that, but I do believe beauty is there, right in front of us. It just requires a pause. Two simple things I have noticed. Early mornings tend to feel more intense, more visually striking than other times of the day. And reflecting, really reflecting, is another way of feeling things more deeply. I have spent years wondering if it is worth stressing so much about what I have or do not have. Being a mother makes that question even heavier. It is not just about me anymore. The way I act, what I value, it all shapes my daughter in some way. And the last thing I would want is for her to grow up feeling like she is never enough or that her life is defined by lack.
That is why these photos try to hold some sense of balance. Nothing too overwhelming, nothing out of place. At least that was the intention. I have been rethinking what really matters in my life, and balance keeps coming back as the answer. Not perfection, not excess, just knowing where things belong. Even when life feels messy or unresolved, it does not mean it always will be. At some point, I realized something almost by accident. Most of my photos are pointed toward the horizon. I did not plan it, but there it is. Maybe I am looking for something, or maybe just trying to remind myself that there is always something beyond what feels heavy right now. Our minds tend to exaggerate things, make them feel bigger, more dramatic than they actually are.
Sometimes all it takes is slowing down a little. Letting the anxiety settle. Looking at things more carefully before reacting to them. I am not here to give advice like I have everything figured out. I do not. I am just trying to make sense of things in my own way, to make life feel a bit lighter, a bit more manageable. Is that enough? I honestly do not know. I just hope that, in some way, these photos connect with whoever sees them. And if you ever feel like you are not enough, like you are somehow incomplete, trust me, you are not. Most of the time, it is just your perspective getting in the way. And yeah, I really hope I do not sound like some self help author right now. If I do, my bad. Thanks for reading, seriously.