Echoes

Sometimes an image asks for a word.
Not to explain it —
but to let it unfold.
To offer it a different space.

The texts here don’t describe the photographs.
They move alongside.
They hum in the same key.

Most of them came later —
sometimes long after the image.
Or years before.
Like a quiet return
on a non-linear day,
sparked by a dream,
a line of thought,
a shift in light.

They came the same way the images came:
Organically.

I didn’t make the connection.
It made itself.
And I let it stay.

What I’m sharing here
is what remains.
What lingers.
What keeps resonating.