Collision of light and air
A cluster of fireworks bursts into gold, red, and faint green, a storm of sparks held still.

A cluster of fireworks bursts into gold, red, and faint green, a storm of sparks held still. The trails reach outward unevenly, each at its own angle, like thoughts escaping a single point. The air behind them stays deep black, swallowing what burns too softly to see.
The centre holds a restless glow, thick and layered. Around it, the streaks thin, becoming threads, dust, then nothing. The moment is loud, but the picture turns it quiet—motion reduced to shape, noise to colour.
For an instant, the fire fills the sky completely, leaving no empty space. Then it retreats into the photograph, calm again, still shining.
In the exhibition Work 308 of 363
The Scale of Time
When Light Comes Apart
Before We Explain the World
See this photograph in the exhibition