ART WORKS

I don’t remember places as they are, only as they pass through me.
The photos I took in Amman were not searching for a clear form, but an attempt to capture a moment that always slips away:
A street gleaming briefly, a shadow moving, a front appearing and vanishing before I could fix it in my eyes.
In my work, this became the way I reconstruct what remains…

Here, the light deliberately errs, layers slide over one another, and the scene shatters much like memory does when trying to recall something you love or lose.
The place doesn’t appear in its boundaries, but in its trace:
A thread of a city, remnants of a building, an arch that survived the blur, and wide spaces admitting they’ve forgotten their details.
These are not maps,
but what remains after passage,
and what remains as I try to see it again.