In the silence of time, where metal holds stories, Your old pliers, forged by a thousand tasks and memories, Now rise like a steel tree, branches intertwined, Or deer antlers that in the night of my gaze are defined.
No longer a tool, but a root of a memory that blooms, In every curve and every grip, an echo of what was and what still looms. It's the silhouette of absence that sprouts with vital force, An intimate forest where the soul finds its course.
Thus, the object that once served, today breathes eternity, A silent testament of love, of life, and tenacity. And in this new form, the past becomes the present, A visual poem for the soul, eternally fervent.
All series will have a print run of 10 unique photographs, regardless of size or finish.
