“What the day leaves behind”

I am a physiotherapist.
I am a photographer.

Two gestures, two presences but, in truth, just one way of being in the world: with eyes that observe, hands that listen, and a body attuned to the quiet rhythms of others.

This project was born from the subtle intertwining of care and image-making. It unfolds over the course of an ordinary day, a day of home visits in the countryside, where silence is never empty, and where every home, every gesture, every wrinkle carries the weight of passing time.

As I cross these thresholds, I enter fragments of life. I often encounter solitude. Stillness. Bodies weary with age, rooms frozen in time, faces that wait for more than just care they wait to be seen. Outside, the light drapes over hills, rust grows on parked cars, weeds reclaim fences, and clouds move slowly across the sky.

To photograph in this context is not to observe from a distance. It is another way of offering presence, extending the hand through the lens. It’s a way to hold onto what slips by, to give shape to the unseen.

This visual journal has no beginning and no end. It is a thread woven from the everyday, an attempt to capture the fragile beauty of routine, to speak without words of human vulnerability, of silence, of the intensity held in fleeting moments.