/ "FRAME".
Wood Print Series
This series captures quiet moments from across the world—photographs printed directly on natural wood.
Each carries a name, a story, a timestamp of presence, a memory after the shutter closed.
/ ISTANBUL.
Call to Prayer, Call to Sky
It happened near the Yeni Mosque.
A flock of birds rises in chaos around a minaret, weaving through the bare branches like prayers on the wind.
Istanbul is always somewhere between the sacred and the everyday. I woke up early to wander the old streets. As I approached the mosque, the morning call to prayer echoed through the trees — and at that very moment, the birds rose as if the sky itself was listening.
Captured in Istanbul, Turkey.
/ NOWHERE IN ICELAND.
Or Maybe Somewhere
I was driving aimlessly across Iceland’s southern plains when I spotted it, almost swallowed by the snow and sky.
There was no one for miles, no path leading to it. I pulled over and stood quietly. It felt like the kind of place where someone once waited — or maybe still does.
To be honest, I can't quite remember where I took this photo. But that’s part of the Iceland experience — you lose your sense of direction, and somehow, it doesn’t matter.
Captured at nowhere in Iceland.
/ BROMO.
Waiting in the Ashes
I remember the crunch of volcanic sand beneath my boots and the mist that clung to everything—even the horses' eyelashes.
As I rode towards Bromo, I caught sight of a quiet scene—a pair of horses, two men, and an unspoken stillness that seemed to carry the weight of generations. I snapped the photo without a second thought, reacting instinctively to the ancient tranquility of the moment.
Captured at Mount Bromo, Indonesia.
/ OSTIA.
Low Buildings Leave Space for Clouds
I wasn’t planning to stop in Ostia. But I needed air and a break from Rome’s intensity.
It was a quiet spring afternoon, and the Mediterranean breeze was still cold enough that people wore jackets on the beach. As I walked along the shore, the light turned silver.
My favorite thing about Rome has always been the low-rise, ochre-colored buildings — when the skyline stays low, you get to see the clouds.
Captured in Ostia, Italy.
/ SINGAPORE.
Birds Stayed
I was on an urban ecology field trip, walking through one of Singapore’s many city parks.
These parrots weren’t meant to be here. I mean — they belonged, but they weren’t from any zoo. Someone let them fly free in a city park, and they just stayed. I met the owner, who told me they always return to this spot. Maybe it’s the food. Maybe it’s something softer, like a sense of belonging.
There was a quiet balance between the soft feathers and the cold metal of a bicycle. Just like Singapore — always balancing the wild and the urban, the unexpected and the designed.
Captured in Singapore.
/ BASTEI.
Beyond the Path Known
It was my first time in Germany — with someone who had opened a new world to me, culture, language, a way of living, and this astonishing landscape.
We watched a lone climber conquer a rocky outcrop, and maybe someone was cheering for him from afar.
But in his world, there was only the mountain and himself.
Curiosity is the greatest treasure of being human. I find myself always moved by someone chasing their curiosity. And I’ve made choices, too, left things behind, and followed my own path of exploration.
Captured at Bastei, Germany.
/ HANGZHOU.
Over the Water
I was spending a quiet weekend near Qiandao Lake— where the spirit of southern China’s water towns still lingers.
The fisherman was gliding silently over the water, his body swaying with the current, like a memory drifting by. I don’t think he noticed me, and that’s why I love this photo—it feels like a memory I was never part of.
It reminded me that what has endured for thousands of years in China hasn’t vanished. It’s still here—quiet, alive, and flowing.
Captured in Hangzhou, China.