Each person walks to the rhythm of their own thoughts. A very old man with no more than 2 two hours left to live thinks about the birth of his fifth grandchild and smiles. No one will ever know what painted his face upwards. His smile is the effect of an internal life that we all possess. In solitude, we are the sole audience of our thoughts. The world is the stage upon which we act out existence. Solitude is a land in between two distinct worlds- a mirror that reflects our place somewhere in the middle. My lens captures the surface of that reflection- creating stories of anonymous moments in endless space.