I forgot where I end (ongoing)

At some point, I stopped recognizing where I ended.

It didn’t happen suddenly. It was quieter than that—something gradual, almost unnoticeable. Being close to people living with depression, I began to carry what was not mine. It entered slowly, without resistance, until it settled inside my thoughts, my body, my perception of space. What once felt external became indistinguishable from my own interior.

This series traces that process of quiet infiltration and the erosion of boundaries that follows. Moving between bodies, landscapes, and fragments of lived environments, the images exist in a state of instability—where presence and absence overlap, and identity becomes diffuse.