VISUAL STUDIES

2019, Hashtags

00, 2019

Much has transpired and evolved since my last venture into a self-portrait photo series. To challenge myself anew, I embarked on a journey of capturing my emotions and mental states over the course of seven consecutive days.

This series serves as a visual expression of the intertwined realms of reality (body) and illusion (mind). Despite outward appearances of strength, joy, or confidence, the reality may be quite different. My aim is to depict themes such as grief and loss, body acceptance and positivity, love, fear, personal development, insecurities, artistic experimentation, and the embrace of the mind and heart.

This is a profoundly personal series, complemented by writings and poems. While grappling with moments of sorrow and navigating through depressive episodes during the creation of this series, I discovered pockets of positivity and happiness.

Once again, through photography, I've drawn closer to myself, my body, and my mind.

Part of the journey into adulthood involves discovering your identity, learning self-love, and embracing your body.

I used to believe I didn't embody enough femininity. My breasts seemed too small, my body alternated between feeling too thin and too fat, and my lips didn't measure up. These were just a few of the insecurities I grappled with. Surrounded by images of seemingly perfect women, I often felt insecure and disheartened. However, gradually, I've come to love and cherish myself. These images symbolize a celebration of my own body—the sacred abode of my soul and mind, deserving of love and self-care.

This remains an ongoing journey for me.

Finding power in fear

Dance of empowerment

Last year, my father fell seriously ill, and as his time dwindles, I find myself in a period of grieving and preparation for the inevitable. This picture is dedicated to him and symbolizes my grief over my former self.

A near-death experience from an accident two years ago initiated profound contemplation about life and death. Coming face to face with my mortality unleashed a cascade of emotions. The realization that life can halt at any moment shattered my illusion of having endless time—to work on myself, my issues, my art, and simply to relish life.

Initially, I grappled with depression. The awareness of my near demise and the irreversible changes in me brought profound sadness. I mourned the loss of my old self, knowing she was gone forever. The guilt surfaced when considering the pain my potential death would inflict on loved ones, compounding the sorrow caused by my past actions.

Then, a profound sense of love enveloped me—from family, friends, and those who stood unwaveringly by my side. The dedicated doctors mended me, and my gratitude knows no bounds. The haunting question of whether people would miss me upon my demise ceased to echo in my mind.

Ultimately, I felt strong. Strengthened by my newfound self, I resolved to stand firm in my values and opinions. Diligently working on self-improvement, I began to appreciate my intrinsic worth. I am neither broken nor fixed.

Now, as I navigate the complex emotions surrounding my father, they are both different and eerily familiar. Amidst the spectrum of emotions, only one remains—acceptance.

Don't forget me in this kingdom that I own

The flower we saw that day

Vivid Subsurface, 2019

In early 2019, I embarked on this project following a poignant conversation with my mother and grandmother. As they shared stories of their life experiences—caring for a mother with Alzheimer's, enduring instances of violence—I was struck by the realization that even after my parents' divorce, my mother had shielded us from her struggles. I had lived unaware of the challenges faced by those I'd known my entire life. This revelation became the driving force behind this series. I aim to convey that everyone is grappling with their own struggles, often hidden beneath the surface. Through these visuals, my intention is to illuminate the shared human experience of adversity, fostering connections and encouraging empathy. Most of the time, the battles we face are invisible to the outside world.