This is a collection of my broken photos from when I can remember to now.
There is the fragrance of locust flowers in the alleyway in childhood, the inexplicable melancholy in adolescence, and the tiny insights that come from stumbling into life as an adult. There is no magnificent story, only the true trajectory of an ordinary person growing up over time, and the heartbeats and echoes that are unique to me and hidden in the folds of daily life.
Concept: the author's imagination