Central Park, a place that has quietly become my refuge. Each walk begins at an apartment nearby,tracing the same path - leaving it and arriving back to it. It reflects a private ritual: walking, observing, remembering.

In these meanderings, the park reveals itself as both stage and sanctuary - a place where the ordinary feels curious, and the curious, momentarily, sacred. It is a space filled with stillness, tenderness, solitude, and wonder.
Fleeting encounters hint at the passing of time, and in some cases, the emotional undercurrents of adolescence. The portraits become reflective surfaces, revealing something unspoken.

The images follow no strict narrative; rather, they echo the rhythm of my thoughts as I try to untangle the weight of a suspended present.

At home, life has become delicate and uncertain—one of my parents caught in
a quiet battle with time—and the need to escape has taken on a sharper edge. I return to Central Park not just as a photographer, but as the inner child that inhabits us, searching for fragments of clarity and peace.

New York, once the backdrop of my younger, more carefree self, now holds a different gravity. The park becomes a space of therapy—where I walk to remember, to feel, and to reflect on the shifting terrain of youth, memory, and the bond with my father. Soft footprints on a path I continue to trace.