A brief reflection on change, loss, and quiet presence. How one bare tree in a blooming garden became a reminder that everything passes, everything moves — and sometimes, the most important thing we can do is simply be.

A quiet morning. A small mirror. A body, remembered. In this letter-like reflection, I explore what happens when we pause long enough to truly meet ourselves. Through a series of movements — gaze, touch, presence — I reconnect with my body not as an object, but as a part of me that feels, remembers, and responds. This is a continuation of the project A Conversation with My Body — where photography and words become a form of healing, presence, and quiet truth.

A quiet meditation on memory, loss, and what remains of us when we’re gone. Through a daughter’s gesture and the few objects left behind — old photographs, a worn belt, and a watch — this story reflects on how life continues in traces, in light, in dust, in love remembered. Accompanied by a symbolic photograph capturing the intimacy of this moment.

A deeply personal letter from the body to the self — an invitation to listen, feel, and reconnect. This message speaks about pain, silence, self-compassion, and the unbreakable bond between mind and body.