This project began with a moment I couldn’t forget. I was walking through an art exhibition when I saw a young child lift a phone to take a picture of an artwork, without even looking at it. No pause. No gaze. Just a quick snap and on to the next.

That simple gesture stayed with me. It felt like a mirror. Not of the child, but of all of us. How often do we move through life without truly seeing it? How often are we surrounded by beauty, texture, and movement, yet somehow absent from it all?

Blinded is not just about technology. It is about presence, and what it means to really be here. In a world where our digital lives demand more and more of our attention, our physical world becomes quieter. We walk down the street but our minds are scrolling. We are together in rooms but rarely meet each other’s eyes. We capture moments, but do not always live them.

This work reflects my own tension with that shift. I notice it in myself. The pull away from the randomness of real life. The slow fading of spontaneous connection. The growing comfort in being digitally available while becoming physically distant.

The figure in this photograph is not blind. They are simply somewhere else. Their body is in the world, but their presence is turned inward or outward or online. The image holds space for that feeling. It does not condemn it. It only observes.

Blinded is a reminder of what we might miss when we forget to look. It is about learning to return to the space we are already in. About choosing, sometimes, to just be here. Eyes open. Heart present. World unfolding.