At the End of the Road
Some roads lead somewhere. Others seem only to pass through time. Photographed through a rain-covered windscreen, these landscapes are not about destinations. They speak instead of the distance that separates us from the world, and of what emerges when our gaze stops searching for an arrival.
This series began with a simple gesture: photographing without leaving the car.
The windscreen soon became more than a physical barrier. Rain, reflections and the traces left by the wipers transform the landscape into something fluid and uncertain. They remind us that we never truly see the world directly. We always look through something else: glass, memory or emotion.
Roads hold a special place in our collective imagination. They suggest travel, escape, discovery and sometimes hope. Yet in these photographs they lead nowhere. They become suspended spaces where the journey matters more than the destination.
Every place depicted here is ordinary. They could exist almost anywhere. What connects them is not geography, but the feeling they evoke: a world that is at once familiar and elusive, close yet already slipping away.
Perhaps photographing the road is, in the end, another way of photographing time itself: always moving, always just beyond our reach.