When the world fits in your hand.

Turns out the planet isn’t that big after all. Just a shiny little marble sitting on the floor, waiting for someone to pick it up and accidentally drop it behind the couch.
The shadows? That’s just us, fighting over who gets to play with it first.

 

Location: Home, Portugal. 

Softness rooted in strength.

There’s something both romantic and surreal about dissolving into the background, becoming part of the earth instead of standing apart from it.
That’s the most feminine kind of strength - to hold softness, fragility, and still be rooted in something bigger.

Location: Home, Portugal.

Looking inward, even in shadow.

It feels like carrying a second gaze, one that doesn’t let me hide. A quiet silhouette on the outside, but inside, the eye keeps watching, keeps questioning.
Maybe that’s what it means to really see yourself: to catch the parts you’d rather leave in the dark, and still hold them in the light.

 

Location: Home, Portugal.

 

A crystal ball that whispers "now".

No fortunes, no grand revelations: just me, peeking into the glow of glass and light. If this is a crystal ball, it doesn’t bother with the future. Instead, it reflects back the small, strange magic of now. A hand, a circle, and the prediction that everything in life is uncertain.

 

Location: Home, Portugal. 

First contact, documented.

Forget flying saucers and desert landings: turns out aliens prefer stone paths and grassy fields. Two shapes, two worlds, one strange visitor who clearly didn’t get the Area 51 memo.
Maybe Earth isn’t their final destination. Maybe this was just a quick stop for sightseeing.

 

Location: Home, Portugal.

A hand pressed against silence.

Sometimes it feels like I’m reaching for something that never quite reaches back. This handprint looks like mine, but at the same time, it feels like it belongs to someone else: someone on the other side of the glass.
Maybe that’s what solitude is: pressing your hand against a surface, waiting for warmth on the other side, and finding only your own reflection staring back.

 

Location: Home, Portugal.

Shadows, pretending to stay.

I have a thing for shadows. They trick me into thinking I’m holding something solid, when in truth it’s already unraveling. Fragments that don’t belong to me, slipping away before I can even name them. Maybe that’s why shadows fascinate me: they let me grasp what can’t really be held.

 

Location: Home, Portugal.

 

Serving looks, not coffee.

This cup is basically me on Mondays: wide-eyed, a little unhinged, and pretending I’ve got it all together under the spotlight. The difference is, the cup actually looks cooler pulling it off. Who knew a coffee mug could have stronger mood swings than its owner?

 

Location: Home, Portugal. 

The hedge is reaching out… probably for a hug.

Forget garden gnomes, my hedge has upgraded to shadow hands. Out of nowhere, two giant palms popped up like the bushes were trying to audition for a horror movie… or maybe just waving hello. Either way, the plants clearly have more personality than I expected.

 

Location: Home, Portugal.

A tiny sun, capped and glowing.

Forget the weather forecast. A bottle cap, a flashlight, and suddenly the sun showed up indoors. Sometimes the day ends brighter than it started.

 

Location: Home, Dubai.

Forks, spoons, and attitude

Forget dinner, these spoons and a fork clearly have bigger dreams. Today they stepped out of the drawer and onto the runway. Who knew cutlery could serve this much personality?

 

Location: Home, Dubai.

Who needs toys when you’ve got light and hands?

Today’s photo turned into a little game with light and shapes. Just my hands, a few small objects, and their shadows on the wall. Nothing complicated, but once you start experimenting, the simplest things begin to look like suns, wheels, or secret symbols.
Sometimes the fun is in not knowing exactly what you’ll get until you see it.

 

Location: Home, Dubai.

Constellations in a glass.

This started as just a UV flashlight bouncing off a glass in a dark room. Nothing special, but when I looked at the picture, it felt like something else entirely - almost like a little constellation trapped indoors.
I love when the camera tricks me like this. You set out to capture something simple, and it gives you back a tiny galaxy instead. Proof that even the most ordinary things can look strange and cosmic under the right light.

 

Location: Home, Dubai.

 

At night, the city glows and I become a shadow among its lights.

Night has a way of multiplying reflections. Outside, the city glows; inside, only shadows remain. Between the two, my silhouette lingers, not quite here, not quite there. In the dark, we’re all shapes blending into the stories the city tells.

 

Location: Home, Dubai. 

Behind every picture, a trace of me remains.

It’s strange how much of ourselves slips into a photograph, even when we’re the one holding the camera.
The eye, the hand, the breath behind the lens… they leave a trace. A quiet reminder that every image is not just about what we see, but also about who is seeing.
Maybe that’s the real secret of photography. It’s not only capturing the world in front of us, but revealing, in subtle ways, the world within us.

 

Location: Home, Dubai.

 

Reflections served with a twist.

It’s just a spoon, nothing special. An object we use every day without a second thought, one of those things that vanishes into routine. But tilt it toward a page of colors and patterns, and suddenly it becomes something else entirely: a mirror bending reality, reshaping the ordinary into the unexpected.
The ordinary is never just ordinary, you only need to look at it from a different angle.

 

Location: Home, Dubai. 

Desert heat, desert mirage, desert trick.

Is it the desert heat… or your eyes playing tricks again?
The air bends, the distance ripples, and for a second, it feels like the world turned into a mirage. A playful reminder that reality is never as solid as it seems.
Sometimes what you see is real, sometimes it’s just the desert laughing at you.

 

Location: Home, Dubai. 

When the week sinks, I float.

It’s Saturday, and here comes happiness popping up like a toy over the horizon.
No big plans, no big drama - just a smile and the reminder that weekends are made for lighter things. Maybe it’s coffee, maybe it’s cartoons, maybe it’s simply doing nothing at all.
Whatever it is, let it be fun. The week is serious enough.

 

Location: Home, Dubai. 

Half-known, half-strange, yet always mine.

We all carry a body, but do we always feel at home in it?
Some days it feels sharp and familiar. Other days, it feels distant, blurred, like something I’m only half-connected to. Between the image I see, the one others notice, and the one I hold inside my mind, there are always layers.
Maybe being at peace with my body doesn’t come from perfect clarity, but from learning to live with the blur, with the shifting versions of myself that appear depending on the light.

 

Location: Home, Dubai.

Beauty isn’t bound by how long it lasts.

For a moment, it looks complete. A sphere of shifting colors, holding reflections and shapes inside it, like a tiny planet floating on air.
But it’s only a bubble. Beautiful, fragile, and always seconds away from disappearing.
Maybe that’s why it feels so alive, whole worlds can exist in fragile forms. Dreams, moments, even people - vast and luminous, but delicate all the same.
And perhaps that’s the point: the value isn’t in how long they last, but in how intensely they shimmer while they’re here.

 

Location: Home, Dubai.

Ordinary pieces, unexpected magic.

It’s strange how simple objects, when placed together, can turn into something unexpected, something that feels bigger than what they are.
Light, shapes, shadows… they combine, and suddenly there’s a star glowing where none should exist.
Life works the same way. Small, ordinary pieces align in just the right way, and what comes out of it feels like magic. Not because the pieces were special, but because of the way they met.
Sometimes, all it takes is a shift in perspective to see the extraordinary hiding in the ordinary.

 

Location: Home, Dubai.

 

Bending reality, one espresso at a time.

Turns out, my coffee machine doesn’t just make coffee: it makes worlds.
This morning, I spotted myself trapped inside its chrome, stretched and curved like I’d wandered into a funhouse mirror. One arm raised, camera in hand, caught in the middle of my daily ritual.
I guess that’s what happens with the objects we use every day. They start to collect little versions of us,  our habits, our shapes, our reflections. Some mornings, they even throw us back at ourselves in strange, funny ways.
So yes, I live inside my coffee machine now. At least until the next espresso.

 

Location: Home, Dubai. 

A tunnel of glass, holding more than it shows.

One glass inside another, inside another. A tunnel of water and light.
It feels like looking through layers of myself: the present contained by the past, the future contained by the present. Each shape holding the next, each version shaping the one that follows.
Behind it all, the city fades into blur.
Sometimes the world only makes sense through the frame you choose to look through.

 

Location: Home, Dubai. 

 

Are you happy with the dragon in the mirror?

Turns out, one dragon is never enough. Put it in front of a few mirrors and suddenly you’ve got a whole team - a little army of green faces staring back.
Funny thing is, each one looks the same… but not quite. A tiny shift here, a different angle there, and suddenly you start wondering: which one is the “real” me?
Maybe that’s the trick of mirrors. They multiply what we think is fixed and ask if we’re happy with the version staring back.

 

Location: Home, Dubai. 

Coffee or roses? Depends on how you look at it.

They looked like roses at first. Red petals layered inside the glass, soft and inviting.
But they weren’t roses at all, just coffee capsules stacked tightly, dressed up as something else.
Maybe that’s why I couldn’t stop staring. Beauty in disguise, routine pretending to be romance, or maybe the other way around.
Not everything is what it seems.
 

Location: Home, Dubai. 

Mannequins are supposed to show us ourselves. This one didn’t.

I was just walking through the mall when I noticed it.
At first, I thought it was just another mannequin, nothing special. But then I realized its hood was zipped all the way up, no face showing, and instead of a head, there was a shark. A shark. In the middle of a clothing display.
I couldn’t tell if it was supposed to be funny, edgy, or just plain weird. But the longer I stood there, the stranger it felt. The shark wasn’t smiling, wasn’t moving, obviously, but it had this quiet way of staring back, like it knew something I didn’t.
Mannequins usually show us what we might look like.
This one made me wonder what I might be hiding.

 

Location: Dubai Mall, Dubai.

A light. An eye. A pause in the noise

I wasn’t looking for quiet. I was looking for food. But between the chatter, colors, and clatter of cutlery, this wall paused me. Hamsa hands and a perfect glow: like the city built an altar without realizing. A tiny stillness inside all the movement. 
Watching. Waiting. Saying nothing, but somehow louder than everything around it.

 

Location: Madinat Jumeirah, Dubai.

The heaviest truths don’t float. They wait at the bottom.

It doesn’t matter how clear the glass is, some things always sink.
Memories. Regrets. The thoughts we try to bottle up and forget.
This photo started as a simple detail. A coin trapped at the bottom of a green bottle. But the more I looked, the more it felt like something deeper. Like how certain truths always settle, no matter how much you stir things around. They wait in the quiet, at the bottom, where the light barely reaches. Waiting to be noticed. Or remembered.
Sometimes, the smallest thing holds the most weight.

 

Location: Home, Dubai.

Blending in. Or maybe glitching out.

I wasn’t trying to say anything profound. I was just trying to take a picture.
But somehow, there I was, swallowed by lines and shadows, half-person, half-chair, caught mid-transition into a piece of modern furniture. A wireframe ghost with good posture.
It’s strange how a simple reflection can turn into a quiet glitch in reality. Like the world paused for a moment to remind me it’s always watching… and occasionally laughing. 

 

Location: Home, Dubai 

A shadow with weight. A silence with texture.

I’m not sure what this picture means yet.
Today felt heavy. And somehow this image… it holds that.
A shadow caught between two surfaces. A shape I recognize but can't really hold. Like a version of myself I only meet on days like this, when the light is wrong, and everything feels louder on the inside.
There’s no real story here. Just something pressing from within. A hand raised, not in farewell, not in reaching. Just there.
Maybe this is what it looks like when you try to speak without words. When the feeling doesn’t need a name.
Just wanted to let it sit here, quietly. Maybe that’s enough.
 

Location: Home, Dubai