At the Edge of Sound [curated photo essay*2025]
Waiting is not a pause; it is an operational system.
Somewhere between speed and stand‑still, we are asked to prove we deserve arrival: show a passport, a wage slip, a pulse, a plan. Breathing becomes paperwork; stomachs become clocks.
These photographs follow the small negotiations that fill this in‑between time - hands knotted, simit looping into circles, pixels stuttering half‑news.
Look long enough and you may hear a shared rhythm behind the images: bodies and places ticking together, waiting for permission to finish their sentences.
Welcome to the queue.
A coin disappears, the latch clicks, the metal drum claims my motion.
And the promised freedom says:
And the promised freedom says:
pay, spin, and wait.