First image – the fountain: The first photo I took was of a fountain. I wanted it to feel calm but strange, like the beginning of something without knowing exactly what. At first the picture felt too busy, so I got closer and focused just on the water. I played around with movement, but when there was too much going on it lost that quiet vibe I was looking for. In the end I waited for the water to settle, then moved it just a little so it would ripple softly. That subtle movement made all the difference.

Second image – the cactus: Then I moved on to a cactus. At first I didn’t think it was going to work. The pot looked ugly and nothing really stood out, but I kept trying different angles. I sprayed some water on it to connect it with the idea of the spring Machado talks about, and also to catch a bit of light. In the end I shot from a slightly higher point to hide the pot, and the way the light landed on the lower right corner reminded me of the glow from the fountain shot. It felt connected.

Third image – the grass: The last photo is a close-up of grass beginning to grow. For me it represents new life and hope, like the last line of the poem. The first version looked okay, but it didn’t have that spark I was after. I added light and water, and while the idea was good, the image ended up too full of water. So I moved in closer and threw the water further back. That way, the light caught just enough of it without covering everything. The grass looked delicate, like it had just started to appear, and it felt like a quiet ending to the series.

I think what I liked the most about this project was how it made me slow down. I paid attention to things I don’t usually notice — how light moves, how something small can carry meaning. Working with both Kawauchi’s style and Machado’s words gave me a way to express something personal without making it too obvious. It felt honest.