Yige
逸格
  
Blue lingers in the corners of winter. In The Swirl, I collect fragments of a season that felt endless—moments suspended in the stillness of Europe’s cold months. The gelatinous sea of Brighton under an overcast sky, flocks of birds dissolving into the wind. The frozen river in London, locked beneath snow that has yet to thaw. A lone tree stump in a Berlin square, severed and forgotten. The brief glint of winter sunlight refracted through a lamp at home.

That winter, I migrated ceaselessly—every month, every few weeks, a new city, a different country. And yet, the weight of winter remained unchanged. The sun was a fleeting visitor, its absence stretching time into something slow, circular, inescapable. I wandered through unfamiliar landscapes without direction, photographing instinctively, as if searching for a way out of the season’s quiet grip.

The images in The Swirl are traces of that time, shaped by both movement and stasis. They do not seek resolution but instead hold onto the texture of passing days—soft, cold, and endless, caught in the quiet turbulence of winter. Projects

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