What Enters the Field of Vision
Yana Northen • 19 July 2025
A flower from the garden, a memory from the past, a quiet layering of time.
Returning from my trip, the first thing I did was to visit my garden.
What immediately caught my eye was the hydrangea bush we planted eight years ago, when my mother passed away. These flowers — vivid and full of life — always remind me of her.
She was a very bright person. I picked one and brought it inside the house.
Lately, I’ve noticed that different objects keep entering my field of vision. I feel that they reflect my inner state. When I place them on top of my photographs, I’m not just decorating the image — I’m layering one reality over another.
The photograph exists on its own, but the object I add becomes a carrier of emotion, memory, or the feeling I’m experiencing in the moment. It makes the image more personal, more alive.
I think I’ll keep doing this. Maybe it’s my way of understanding myself better?
Planting poppies in my garden was my unconscious way of mourning my husband—only recently did I understand their deep, symbolic meaning.
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.
A visual reflection on how ordinary objects reveal our emotions and thoughts — a photo collage made over one week.