A Future Undefined.
The shade was about to fade.
The wind decided it was time for the clouds to dissipate so the sun could shine.
A tad unfair, if you ask me. The lack of say the clouds had in which direction they were sent.
The natural order of things sometimes feels unjust.
Each frame tells a story, but that story is ever-evolving, shifting like the ocean tide.
Each frame a story, each story a memory, each memory morphing into an unresolved past.
A striking realization of how time erodes who we were while quietly crafting who we will be.
We drift through life, shape-shifting like clouds carried involuntarily by the breeze of the moment.
Where do we set our sights when everything moves so fast
and the present shaping us is fragmented
by wants and desires aimed at a future undefined?













































