This note marks the beginning of a series where I intend to explore the visual landscape of the "purgatory" I first introduced in Saudade. Over the next several posts, I will be sharing multiple photographs that capture this purgatory-esque scene, examining the connections between these images and my writing one piece at a time.

Initially, it was just for fun—a quiet, private exploration of shadow. I was proud of the results, yet I hesitated to share them; I feared the world these photos displayed would be lost in translation.

But as I looked closer, the mission these images yearned for became clear. They are the visual manifestation of the "thin barrier" I described in Letter to David.

THE SLATS: The window blinds represent the architecture of that waiting room. The slats are the bars we look through; they allow the light from the "other side" to reach us, but they keep us firmly on the inside.

THE COLLISION: The high-exposure light in the final frame is the "unrelenting" truth. It is the moment the day hits hardest—when the light is too honest and the room feels too empty. The smoke caught in this glare is the "mess," the ghostly presence of a memory that still has a body in the room

THE CONSTANCY: Finally, we see the barrier at its most rigid. There is no smoke here to soften the edges, and the light doesn't bleed through—it is blocked. This represents the permanency and reality of this purgatory. It is the realization that the slats aren't just a temporary obstacle; they are a constant, defining feature of the world I'm currently inhabiting.

Godspeed.