Lethe
Named after the river of forgetfulness in the Greek underworld. Lethe symbolizes the loss of memory, the unseen, and the spaces where identity dissolves.
It is a place, far away from the stars
stored in broken houses
outside borders that tear us apart
A house that is not a river
full of memories
of images that were left in the dust
And in the middle of nowhere
I surrender
like a figure without a past
With an album fully loaded
by places I haven’t come
Photography is a form of death. Not a violent one, but a quiet passing. A shutter blinks, and in that blink, the world is paused. Light floods a lens. A moment yields. And then—it is gone. And years come and go, but this moment is now frozen, stored in a place, in a dust of time, stable with no return. And then inside the photo, there are different photos, and it’s a matter of a gaze, and suddenly something you didn’t recognize comes back. And it’s like a new life is being formed, but belongs to another place, a place that doesn’t have a state or someone’s own.
I’ve always been drawn to blind spots: places left in shadow, untouched by clarity.
In a world obsessed with meaning, they offer something rare: mystery, openness, poetry. Not everything needs to be seen to be felt. Like Chris Marker’s Sans Soleil (1983), where there is no striving for explanation, only wandering, silence, and image drifting, I feel a kind of salvation when images don’t land and the space remains floated (unresolved, unfinished), refusing to be pinned down. In that openness, art breathes. Not everything must arrive. Not every story needs an end. In a way, I feel that only then does art become as transformative as it can be.
In Lethe, I embrace the in-between—a space where memory drifts, and crossings are felt more than defined. The moments I collect are fragments, traces, and blind spots that evoke transition rather than arrival. The photographs I include are intentionally imperfect—low in resolution, soft in detail. This lack of clarity leaves room for poetry and imagination to enter. These are not images that claim or conclude; they hover, suspended between presence and absence.
