Two languages. One I was born into, one I found later. Both trying to do the same thing, to take what is felt on the inside and make it real enough for someone else to recognise.

Music gets there through time. Through the note that follows the note that follows the note, building something that only exists while it is happening. Photography gets there through the opposite, the single moment, stopped. The fraction of a second that somehow contains everything.

In this world they found each other.

The film lifts the guitar the way creativity lifts us when everything else has become too heavy to carry alone. Not by solving anything. Not by making the hard things disappear. Just by giving us somewhere to put it. A frame. A chord. A reason to keep looking.

During the hardest part of this journey I kept making photographs. Not because I knew what I was doing. Because it was the one thing that asked me to be present. To look. To find the angle that made sense of what I was standing in.

It turns out that is enough.

It turns out that is quite a lot.