Each portrait explores a specific emotional state, not as something fixed or performative, but as a living, shifting force. These aren’t literal expressions. Instead, they represent the tension between how we present ourselves and what we protect; What we hold on to and what we need to let go. 

The photographs are an invitation to sit with feelings that often go undetected in daily life: freedom, fear, guilt, shame, ecstasy, confidence, jealousy, pain. Light and shadow function not just as visual tools, but as emotional symbols. The dark isn’t necessarily negative—it’s heavy, rooted, dense with memory. The light, by contrast, moves. It reveals. That interplay between darkness and light reflects an ongoing internal dialogue—between control and softness, defense and exposure, proof and possibility.

I don’t tether the camera. Once the frame is set, I enter it without knowing exactly what will emerge. The process is as much about surrender as it is about control. The outcome is never certain and that feels right. Like the emotions themselves, these images don’t aim to resolve. They translate what can’t be said into something that can be seen.

These portraits aren’t about beauty, though beauty emerges. They aren’t about identity, though identity is at the core. They’re about emotion in its raw, layered, and often contradictory forms—how it shapes us, hides in us, and aches to be seen (honored, respected) if only for a moment, as we transform.