The beginning of winter days. The soft white blanket draped over the chair resembles the morning mist. It's somehow hard to grasp and feels light and fluffy.
The curves of the steps and turns of the dance, the fluttering hem of the skirt as it lands on the floor, They are reminiscent of buoyancy.
Its rounded texture seems to gently envelop everything. Even all the pain that I tried to choose for myself.
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her records
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Somewhere in Her Room
“She” is here and she can go anywhere. A depiction of everyday life coloured by design and records.
Archive is here . Click here for the book version of "Somewhere in Her Room"
