Eventually, images started to appear. Abstract, colourful shapes that felt ancient. Cosmic, even. Like small glimpses of something bigger - something beyond us. As if I was photographing fragments of a story much older than myself.

Not knowing became the way in

What moved me most wasn’t just the images, but what they stirred in me. In the face of this vast and ever-expanding universe, I started to feel how small and temporary we are as humans. And strangely, that didn’t feel sad or scary - it felt comforting. Like being part of something much larger. A quiet kind of belonging.

I began letting go of control in my photography. I stopped chasing the “right” shot and started following instinct instead. Colour, emotion, movement - these became my guides. Photography shifted from something visual to something more intuitive. A form of inner listening. A slower, deeper way of seeing.

The Series: Stardust

Eventually, this all came together in a series I called Stardust. A visual journey through time and space - from chaos to order, from darkness to light, from stillness to motion. I found myself drawn to questions that don’t really have answers. What came before the beginning? What moves life into being?

I explored cosmology, microbiology, and the poetry of science. But what stayed with me was not the facts, but the mystery between them.

The images don’t explain. They suggest. They don’t tell a story - they open a space. To me, they’re a quiet reminder:
We are made of the same matter as the stars.
Everything is connected.
Everything is in motion.
And somehow, stillness holds it all.

The Exhibition: vulnerable and right

In the end, I selected eight images and showed them in a small exhibition. My first time sharing abstract work publicly. I felt exposed, but also proud.What stayed with me most were the visitors’ responses. Some stood in silence. Others shared dreams, memories, or emotions that the images had brought up. The work seemed to bypass logic and speak to something softer, more intuitive.

What Stardust gave me

This project taught me something I’d already started to feel:
I want to create work that makes space.
For stillness. For reflection. For wonder.

Through Stardust, I don’t just want to show images.
I want to offer a place to pause.
To breathe.
To remember:
We, too, are stardust.