Cádiz, Spain
This image began as a study in order—but it’s the interruption that made it worth keeping.
The grid is cold, mechanical, almost indifferent. But then come the leaves: soft, shadowed, undisciplined. They break the rhythm without apology. And that’s what I was chasing—not perfection, but the exact point where control gets challenged.
The grid is cold, mechanical, almost indifferent. But then come the leaves: soft, shadowed, undisciplined. They break the rhythm without apology. And that’s what I was chasing—not perfection, but the exact point where control gets challenged.
My intent wasn’t to glorify symmetry—it was to question what happens when something living pushes back against it.
The frame holds tension: between structure and softness, between shadow and light, between what’s fixed and what insists on growing anyway.
The frame holds tension: between structure and softness, between shadow and light, between what’s fixed and what insists on growing anyway.
This isn’t a window.
It’s a negotiation.
It’s a negotiation.
