Photography

I strive to restrain my emotions, like secrets etched onto a window pane, condensed into frost by the winter wind—perhaps this is the peace I long for. I finished yesterday's book, tore up the unsent letters, and cast them into the drifting snow. Forgive me, for there is no hearth in my room to burn them completely. Look how beautifully these paper fragments dance, like fallen leaves still chasing the deep autumn. I still haven't managed to work hard every day. Today, I revisited the scenes from our dreams. I spent the whole night editing just two photos to send to you. This uncontrollable waste of life. —— "Love Letter"

Spinning in the Autumn Sun — warmth, vintage trains, and the sheer joy of a fleeting moment.