Most years it is a fifty/fifty split between storm clouds and optimistic light breaking around the edges; there is time to laugh; we can band together to keep each other sane and lifted. This year has made jaded cynics of us all. Turns out when you have enough free time on your hands to watch the world function, it is a complete shit show. Spend eight months seeped in it and—well—here we are...
Our journey in loving the photography of Daria Amaranth continues with the latest collection Mon reflet. Personal yet secretively distant; the notable features we expectedly look forward to from Amaranth remain. It is being surprised to experience the style one would assume we have by now grown acceptingly familiar with which suspends the moment of looking through these shots for the first time.