Carpets of dust can often be found lying serenely in abandoned places. This serenity, is occasionally disturbed from time to time by uninvited guests. The great poet Li Bai once wrote about dust, how our hearts, dancing with the dust floating in the light, brings vibrancy to a space where the dust had been sleeping silently like dead ashes. On a closer look, the picture of such dust particles is actually always changing – floating, dancing, lighting up and dimming with the changing light of the day.
Some photographers prefer a world without dust, as it put marks on film negatives and camera sensors. But these particles on films, just like background noise on digital photos, can be otherwise seen as the dust that dances in the light - if you hate it, you see flaws; if you love it, it will be part of the texture.
In recent years, I learned to adapt my mind to the circumstances I face. It is not the dust, but how the photographer’s mind reimagines and portrays the dust in a meaningful way. I stay peaceful, allowing my inspiration to guide and strengthen e in contributing to a rapidly changing world.