My father was a photographer — a craftsman of light, shadow, and attention.

I learnt from him: serious, precise, and always searching for that instant when presence reveals truth. Seeing the photograph before actually shooting it.

I never followed the profession. But photography stayed with me — as a way of looking, of sensing the weight of a moment before it passes.

These images are simply fragments I’ve paused to notice — quiet encounters, brief compositions of character, movement, or purpose.

Sometimes, someone looks back.

And for a second, the world feels more alive.