Each season in life comes with different joys and trials. When one is living in happiness, it is hard to even imagine pain. Then it suddenly strikes. There is  this unspoken moment where the person is not even able to react; it is the shock, petrifaction, or a formal feeling.

This image is a expression of Emily Dickinson’s tragic poem, 372. Though the pictures were planned the outcome was not; which is a narrative on how in life we plan our lives, but the outcome may be something entirely different. I have embraced this change in life, as well in my photography. It has only made me stronger as an artist and person. 

372 

After great pain, a formal feeling comes –

The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs –

The stiff Heart questions ‘was  it He, that bore,’

And ‘Yesterday, or Centuries before’?

The Feet, mechanical, go round –

A Wooden way

Of Ground, or Air, or Ought –

Regardless grown,

A Quartz contentment, like a stone –

This is the Hour of Lead –

Remembered, if outlived,

As Freezing persons, recollect the Snow –

First – Chill – then Stupor – then the letting go –

Emily Dickinson