Creating "An Internal Odyssey" was a process of deep self-exploration and transformation. The series emerged during a pivotal shift in my life, during which I began immersing myself in philosophical readings, particularly those of Stoicism. That shift reformed how I viewed the world and my place in it. I began to examine my thoughts and actions with greater intention, and from that reflection came the desire to explore the self through the landscape. My longstanding fascination with Romanticism made this the ideal framework for such a journey. Nature became a mirror of something vast and mysterious, echoing the inner workings I was learning to confront.

About four years ago, I had a sudden realisation. Every photo, either mine or someone else's, seemed exponentially more powerful in black and white. It felt like a calling, and I followed it without hesitation. It may sound dramatic, but it’s the truth. I remember it as if it were yesterday. It took a while to truly understand why this shift occurred, but it only became more obvious the more I worked with black and white imagery. What captivates me about monochrome is its emotional immediacy. With the distraction of color removed, you're faced with the essential elements: composition, tone, texture, and subject. There's a rawness and intensity that feels deeply poetic. I also believe that working in black and white sharpens your instincts as a photographer. You have to see differently, more deliberately. It continues to make my heart skip a beat.

In many ways, the locations choose me. I spend a lot of time on photo walks in nature, often without any specific image in mind. Then, something will catch my eye; a composition, a texture, a feeling. Sometimes it’s a fleeting moment, and other times, it’s a place I revisit again and again to build something deeper from it. It’s an intuitive process more than a strategic one.

Early in my photographic journey, I discovered Pictorialism and it completely shifted my perception of what photography could be. The use of soft focus, textures, and atmospheric tone felt like magic. It showed me that a camera wasn't just a tool for recording reality but could also be used to express vision and emotion, like a brush on canvas. As I continued to study photographic history and eventually moved into art history more broadly, I felt like I was being introduced to an entirely new world. One where boundaries between mediums dissolved. That painterly quality still informs how I see and shoot.

The camera is traditionally seen as a documentary tool; it shows what is. But I’m deeply interested in pushing that boundary. I want my images to evoke not just what something looks like, but what it feels like. Sometimes it’s the feeling of a distant memory, a half-remembered dream, or a moment of stillness that carries emotional weight. Through subtle manipulations of light, tone, and composition, I aim to create something that straddles the line between the real and the imagined.

Henri Prestes has been a long-time source of inspiration for me. Though he primarily works in color, his black and white images remain some of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen. That emotional atmosphere he creates is something I deeply admire. But Laura Makabresku is by far my favorite photographer. Her work moves me in ways I can’t fully explain—there’s something haunting, poetic, and sacred in what she creates. It inspires me daily.

I’m currently working on several projects, including revisiting some older ones that I now see with fresh eyes. It’s exciting to return to previous work and discover new ways to shape or expand it. At the same time, I’m developing new ideas—some quiet, some more ambitious. I’m allowing myself space to explore without pressure, trusting that the right direction will emerge.

A dream project would be one where I could fully realise the ideas I carry in my mind. Those that feel too large or complex for a single image or series at the moment. I’m driven by the conceptual side of photography, and when execution aligns with vision, it’s a deeply fulfilling process. I have many such ideas still waiting to be brought to life, and the thought of one day manifesting them fully is something I hold onto.