Where Did I Left My Car?

When I framed “Where Did I Left My Car”, I was chasing absence, presence, and the city’s quiet accusation. I recall stepping into a narrow lane, scanning facades, light and shadow, empty spots. I trained the lens not on what was there, but on what was not. The void became subject.

I waited until all cars had passed, until the frame was emptied. Then I held the shutter, letting the urban grid, the lines of curb, doorways, and windows become witnesses. The emptiness sits heavy, like a question mark in concrete.

I chose a vantage point slightly off-centre. The negative space on one side is meant to feel unbalanced—echoing the unease of forgetting. The orthogonal geometry of walls, pavements, frames, and light shafts becomes part of the narrative.