Corner of a Room

This collection was inspired by a visit to a friend’s new apartment. They had recently moved in, and one afternoon, we sat around the dining table sharing pizza and settling into the easy comfort of a new space.

As I looked around the room, I noticed the afternoon light coming through the window, falling softly across the lamp and the plant beside it. There was something quiet and beautiful about that ordinary corner — the kind of beauty that exists for only a moment, without asking to be noticed. I took a photograph, wanting to hold on to that feeling, and eventually turned it into this collection.

Later, I learned that the plant had belonged to a previous roommate who had recently passed away. Suddenly, the scene carried a different kind of weight. What had first seemed like a simple moment of light and calm became a reminder of memory, absence, and the people and things we leave behind.

Death is inevitable. That is precisely why the moments we are given matter so much. We spend most of our lives thinking about status, achievement, recognition, and what society tells us we should want. But when everything is stripped away, those things become surprisingly small.

What remains are the moments we lived — the afternoon spent eating pizza with friends, sunlight moving across a room, a plant carrying someone's memory, a quiet conversation, a feeling of being exactly where we wanted to be.

I enjoy noticing the ordinary moments while they are still here, and, if we are lucky, carrying them with us for a lifetime.

Corner of a Room is a collection about one of those moments. A small corner, and a little light.