London

I was drawn to this form because it felt alive—tensile, fluid, and strangely weightless for something so grounded. It wasn't the structure I was after, but the illusion it gave off: that something solid could feel like it was about to lift, like it belonged more to the sea or sky than to earth.

This image is about the softness within steel, the curve that disarms, the rhythm that speaks before you understand what it's saying. The lines don’t just follow a pattern—they breathe. They ripple. They suspend.

My intent wasn’t to capture the building, but to catch the exact moment it stopped behaving like one.

This is not about architecture.
It’s about the seduction of form—when mass moves like memory.