The choice to tell one’s story to a stranger over the course of a year, through a photographic correspondence—an exchange of images as a means of exploration and introspection.
A dialogue at a distance, unfolding through parallel narratives: I moved inward, while the French photographer Julien Daniel documented his own family.

One year becomes both an existential measure and a symbolic boundary. Yet time is elusive, as Augustine of Hippo wrote: “If no one asks me, I know what it is. If I wish to explain it to him who asks, I do not know.”

Within this shared timeframe, images follow a seemingly linear path, yet remain fragmented. Memory and reality intertwine, dissolving into a dreamlike dimension where meaning becomes fluid.

Love—lost or rediscovered—atavistic fears, an awareness of maternity, and second chances to reshape what life had left unresolved emerge through this process. What appears absent turns into metaphor, in a cathartic relationship with nature.

Gradually, the process shifts: from the accumulation of images to their subtraction, revealing an essential core.

A search for balance, for self, for a return to an inner landscape—toward a primordial energy that reminds us how we inevitably belong to what we call the Universe.