I used to be very active, ambitious, outstanding and sociable person. Three years ago, I fell in love with a guy, who is also a photographer. Since before our relationship, we both knew that our story would not be an easy one. But I was much into him. We were very often on the road together shooting. I never missed an opportunity to capture him through my lens in every place we went together. And I always created an album named “I wish you were there” whenever I had to travel without him. He would have intentionally asked whom do I mean that. And I would have wickedly smiled and said why he does not know that it is he.
I thought then that we share the same dreams, energy and burring desires. I was also very assured that our relationship would somehow continue in some forms or another into the future. However, finally, I learned that it was all my delusion.
Since our separation, I struggled to be able to function well and be productive. Photography was the most difficult part. I had so lost my way that sometimes I could not even touch my camera for months. I wonder how other people lived through pain and passed through their broken-heart journeys.
Over time, the more I grappled with pain, the clearer I realized that I could use my camera as a mirror and a way to reflect my survival during my loneliest travels.