In the depths where the soul remembers its own beginnings, the human story unfolds, not as a straight path, but as a spiral of struggle, illusion, and renewal. Within these visions, spirits wrestle against their own shadows, yearning for the purifying flame that frees them from the weight of what they have created.
Reflections shimmer, deceiving us with the glitter of self. Our faces multiplied in endless mirrors of desire and vanity. We wander through false paradises, lost in the reflection of ego, mistaking gold and praise for light. Yet even amid the decay of indulgence, where ignorance wears the mask of joy and pleasure devours meaning, something deeper stirs—the faint ember of awakening.
These images speak of the beast within, the eternal struggle to tame the hungers that haunt the heart. They ask what becomes of us when compassion withers, when sacrifice is forgotten, when love turns hollow and imitation replaces truth. They reveal how easily the sacred becomes synthetic—how sentiment can be forged without soul, leaving only the echo of feeling’s form.
Yet through ruin, rebirth waits. For life moves in cycles of shedding and becoming, each fracture a doorway to transformation. Not all awakenings come bathed in light; some rise from the nightmares we forge within ourselves. But even there, in the darkest chambers of being, the ancient fire of consciousness flickers on—whispering that redemption is not found in gods, nor salvation in illusion, but in the quiet act of remembering who we are beneath the noise.
This series is a mirror to the modern psyche. A sacred descent and return. A chronicle of the human condition caught between chaos and grace, wrestling the beast, seeking the self, forever burning toward transcendence.
Digital collage.
Struggle in the Deep
Lost in the Reflection of Ego
Human F*ckery
Selfish Sacrifice
Taming the Beast
Symbiotic Love
Artificial Sentiment
Resurrection
Nightmare
STRUGGLE IN THE DEEP
In the abyss where light falters, souls thrash against the tides of their own becoming. Each breath a battle, each wound a prayer for release. Here, the spirit wrestles its shadow, forging itself in the crucible of unseen fires— where karma unravels, and the seed of rebirth smoulders beneath the darkened waters.
LOST IN THE REFLECTION OF EGO
A modern myth of Narcissus reborn. Humanity drifts through mirrored illusions, enthralled by its own shimmering cage. Gold glints where truth once lived, flesh parades as faith, and hollow praise hums like false divinity. Yet the true awakening lies not in idols nor gods, but in the soft ignition of awareness— the quiet fire within that burns through the veil of illusion.
HUMAN F*CKERY
A fever dream of civilization—where decadence dances with decay. Desire drips from every surface, ignorance enthroned in pleasure’s domain. Here, the self crowns itself as god, offering its soul to the altar of indulgence. Every ecstasy another erosion, every bite another surrender to the slow rot of forgetting what it means to be human.
SELFISH SACRIFICE
What is a life untempered by empathy, a heart that refuses to ache for another? Without compassion, the spirit curdles to dust— a hollow resonance echoing through a world that forgets how to feel. True sacrifice blooms not from loss, but from love— the sacred act of giving that keeps the soul alive.
TAMING THE BEAST
Within every heart prowls a creature of fire and hunger. To tame it is the eternal trial— to wrestle with instinct, rage, and fear until they bow to grace. Each scar becomes scripture, each fall, a step toward awakening— the beast tamed not by force, but by the quiet courage to evolve.
SYMBIOTIC LOVE
There are loves that do not merely bind, but dissolve. Two souls entwined beyond measure— their edges blur, their breaths merge, until they are no longer two but one endless pulse. A sacred weaving of being into being, where the tapestry itself becomes the heartbeat of the cosmos.
ARTIFICIAL SENTIMENT
Some hearts speak in hollow tones, their kindness a performance, their smiles rehearsed. They mimic warmth but emit no heat— like a sun painted on a wall. Such false tenderness is a shadow of love, a gesture without essence, a mother’s touch without the soul behind it.
RESURRECTION
Life is a spiral of endings disguised as beginnings. With each shedding, we leave behind a former self— ashes feeding the soil of what comes next. We rise, fall, and rise again, each incarnation carrying the memory of its own undoing. Rebirth is not a miracle, but a rhythm— the eternal heartbeat of becoming.
NIGHTMARE
Not every awakening is gentle. Some souls are reborn in darkness, forged in the iron of their pain. The mirror turns, and the reflection is a stranger— a creature sculpted by sorrow’s hand. Yet even in shadow, truth hums softly: that the light we chase beyond the horizon has always been whispering within.
