This project explores the negotiation of identity within environments shaped by restraint and self-regulation. During a period when parts of myself were held privately rather than expressed outwardly, everyday life took on a muted, almost monochromatic tone.
Glass Animal’s music became an emotional and conceptual anchor, offering continuity and resonance when other forms of expression felt limited. The work translates this relationship with sound into a visual language informed by my fascination with space and the universe, which I approach as both a source of faith and imaginative refuge.
Visually, it draws from retro science fiction aesthetics, using speculative imagery to explore distance, longing, and possibility. The project sits at the intersection of sound, identity, and cosmic imagination, dedicated to the artists whose music sustained a sense of colour and self-recognition during a period of quiet containment.
Cosmic Water
Water imagery suggests the tears, the flow of feeling, but when you combine it with “space,” you get the idea of “even tears float in the void,” or “my tear is small, but in this emptiness it still matters to me.”
Running down my face
The moment emotion breaks containment — the self dissolving into the universe. It’s grief, love, and surrender, all liquified into something small but cosmic.
It’s both intimate and vast — a tear that belongs to one person, yet represents something universal about feeling too much in a world that feels too big.
RUNNing differ ways
A moment of emotional disorientation — when grief or love becomes too vast to follow one path. It’s the turbulence between the intimate and the infinite.
When the tear leaves the face and enters the void, gravity breaks, and emotion finds its own strange physics.
LIKE A BILLION WAVES
a tear becomes a tide.
A single emotion — grief, love, release — multiplying into infinite echoes through the void. It’s how something deeply personal feels world-sized when you’re lost in it.
a tear becomes a tide.
It’s the sound of heartbreak rippling through the cosmos.
just a tear in space
The quiet realization that even the deepest human feeling — grief, love, longing — is both infinitesimal and infinite. A single tear becomes a universe of its own, but in the cosmic vastness, it’s barely a ripple.
It’s a moment of humility, stillness, and surrender —
the kind that happens when you finally stop fighting the feeling and let it just be.