Black.
The project is a series of ten large-format prints—part meditation, part reckoning. At its center is terra, a stand-in for Mother Earth, slowly swallowed by an encroaching darkness. The blackness isn’t just a color; it’s a force—something foreign, something that erodes, something that takes.
Each image is a document of change. A body—alive, whole—begins to shift, losing its shape, becoming an object. The transformation isn’t sudden. It creeps in, like water rising in a basement, like ink bleeding through paper. The body resists, but the blackness seeps into every crack.
This work is about what happens when something natural meets something it can’t absorb. It’s about the tension between what we know and what we fear. Between what’s familiar and what’s unknowable. The blackness in these photographs is more than a backdrop—it’s an antagonist, pressing against skin, reshaping it, erasing it.
BLACK is a quiet, unsettling reflection on loss and change. It lingers in that space where identity blurs, where the edges of the self start to dissolve.
Music by Mikolaj Ross.
Black.
The project is a series of ten large-format prints—part meditation, part reckoning. At its center is terra, a stand-in for Mother Earth, slowly swallowed by an encroaching darkness. The blackness isn’t just a color; it’s a force—something foreign, something that erodes, something that takes.
Each image is a document of change. A body—alive, whole—begins to shift, losing its shape, becoming an object. The transformation isn’t sudden. It creeps in, like water rising in a basement, like ink bleeding through paper. The body resists, but the blackness seeps into every crack.
This work is about what happens when something natural meets something it can’t absorb. It’s about the tension between what we know and what we fear. Between what’s familiar and what’s unknowable. The blackness in these photographs is more than a backdrop—it’s an antagonist, pressing against skin, reshaping it, erasing it.
BLACK is a quiet, unsettling reflection on loss and change. It lingers in that space where identity blurs, where the edges of the self start to dissolve.
Music by Mikolaj Ross.