In the cold reality of winter, walking down the streets at night, I find these reminiscences of us. The mystery of something that appears like a trail in the snow, that vanishes with beams of sun, no longer a trace of you.

Work that’s finding a place of mystic within myself, what am I looking for in these empty streets? Perhaps a route to find stability in an insatiable drive to explore more, to be more, to be found. Maybe that winter trail is my attempt to lead myself towards better times.

The question remains, how real is that in our reality that is just there for a blip, then shortly after disappears like it was never there.