The Unseen
There was a time when shop windows competed for our attention. They gleamed, orderly, offering promises of novelty, desire, belonging.
But time passes, the eye wanders, and what was once a display becomes a veil. They no longer show products, but layers: reflections that steal fragments of the world, paint that erases, paper that covers, glass that clouds.
I do not photograph what lies behind, but what prevents us from seeing. I am drawn to that moment when the shop window ceases to be a means of selling and becomes a surface of uncertainty. A broken mirror of the city. An abstract painting made by abandonment, rain, and the reflection of a streetlamp.
In these fragments I find something that was never designed to be beautiful — and yet it is. What can no longer be seen… is exactly what I want to look at.
