PROJECTIONS OF REFLECTIONS // JANUARY 27, 2026
I stepped out of the comfort of my home onto snow-ridden steps, boots strapped with a single, meaningless layer of cotton beneath, meant to shield me from the weather of a winter storm. Part of me knew it wasn’t enough. Part of me knew snow would slip into my boots and erase all feeling from my feet. Still, I chose to leave.
A part of me knows very well that certain actions always lead to certain resolves. When I mix whites with colors, they bleed. When I let a due date creep up behind my shoulder, it tightens into anxiety. There are actions I could avoid, small choices that would unquestionably improve my state of being. And yet, I do them anyway. Why?
Because a part of me is desperate to remain human. And being human seems to require mistakes.
Not the grand, destructive ones. Not defaulting on loans or refusing to pay artists, which is not poetic or human, just negligent. I mean the smaller, daily miscalculations. The ones that leave your socks wet, your chest uneasy, your plans slightly off course. The ones that remind you that you are present, choosing, exposed to consequence.
Maybe it is in these moments, when we knowingly step into the cold with insufficient protection, that life sharpens itself. Discomfort becomes proof of agency. Error becomes evidence of care. And meaning, however fleeting, arrives not despite our missteps, but because we were willing to make them.
PROJECTIONS OF REFLECTIONS // APRIL 18, 2024
Light - Start
Dark - End
Dark - End
Binary constructs that we’ve grown up with, ingrained in our minds since our earthly entry.
The greatest physicists have attempted to solve the origin of light, sourced from an evolution of the cosmos. From sun to candle, we experience light in its most grand yet futile forms.
In contrast, darkness is a constant; little variation exists with darkness as a state. However, the change from light to dark evokes a great toll on the human emotion.
When it gets dark, we shift in our ability to perceive visually and emotionally. In simpler terms, at night kids start to get scared and I get even more blind.
So with the start of this project, I pose one question:
Where do we begin?
Where do we begin?
COMFORT ZONES // JAN. 8, 2O24
Navigating the treacherous weather in Philadelphia, my brother Joel and I braved the storm to attend Chi Alpha's North East Regional Conference. As the weekend unfolded, the contrast between the stormy atmosphere and the calm city created a unique backdrop for our adventures. Despite warnings to stay indoors, we chose to defy authority and embraced the unknown.
Our trip took an unexpected turn during a shopping spree, with the biting cold threatening to freeze our faces and fingers. In those moments, the proximity to danger made me acutely aware of the fragility of life—a sensation I hadn't experienced in a long time. It was a stark reminder that comfort zones often act as a shield, providing a false sense of security.
The juxtaposition of the turbulent weather and the serene cityscape became a metaphor for the personal journey we embarked on during the conference. As we delved into discussions, workshops, and moments of reflection, the contrast of the external chaos mirrored the internal challenges of stepping beyond our comfort zones.
This weekend in Philadelphia became a profound exploration of vulnerability, growth, and the courage to face the unknown. In the face of adversity, we discovered that true strength lies in defying limitations and embracing the discomfort that comes with personal evolution. Stay tuned for more insights and reflections on this transformative journey. Godspeed.