The two years of the pandemic were dark times—an era when many tried to escape loneliness and monotony with simple walks. I, too, found myself wandering, seeking some form of relief while avoiding the watchful eyes of neighbors and acquaintances, drifting further into the fringes of the city.
That, at least, was my experience. I saw others like me—distant and alone—passing one another with faces obscured by masks, crossing through “shadow zones” accompanied only by introspective thoughts and a constant sense of mourning, whether justified or not.
There were personal wounds during that period, unspoken yet deeply felt, which silently shaped the way I looked at the world. Solitary night runs became my way of seeking resilience, of reclaiming something lost. Those moments—shrouded in silence and lit only by dim streetlights—were often accompanied by heavy, emotional music from artists like Jesu and Midwife, whose sounds resonated with the emotional texture I carried within.
It was in those spaces—physical and emotional—that I felt the need to transform the void and darkness I carried into images. This project is the result of that impulse: a visual trace of a silent descent and a fragile attempt at rising.
The post-processing of these photographs is intentionally heavy. It is a stylistic choice meant to emphasize the stark contrasts, echoing the emotional gravity of those silent, black-and-white explorations.
Cameras used: Ricoh GR II, Fujifilm X10, Apple iPhone 13 mini.
