Mustang is a kingdom of contradictions — a high-altitude desert where the horizon offers infinite freedom, yet the silence creates a beautiful, inescapable prison. Having spent twenty years within this ethereal landscape, I have come to know it as a place where the air is too thin for secrets and the wind too cold for easy grief.
These photographs were born from the marrow of that solitude.
Living far from the reach of family and the familiar warmth of friends, I found myself in a space where solitude transitioned from a choice into a weight. In those moments of profound isolation, when my own eyes remained dry, I began to search for my reflection in the earth. I looked for the tears I would not shed in the weathered face of the mountains.
I found them in the salt-streaked canyons, the deep fissures of the cliffs, and the scarred, eroding ridges. Through the lens, the landscape underwent a metamorphosis: the stone began to weep for me.
This project is a record of a borrowed release. It explores the vulnerability of absolute isolation, where the stillness of the Himalaya eventually finds a voice — not in me, but in the stone. Here, the observer and the earth become a single, grieving element.
