Fragments of quiet. Glimpses of grace. Stillness, caught mid-breath.
Between the noise and the next thing, there are moments that shimmer—soft as breath, steady as light. Slices of Stillness gathers these fragments: a shadow on the wall, a ripple in sound, a held gaze. Here, time slows. Here, you can listen to what silence is trying to say.
The Man Who Saw Beneath the Surface
Cousteau once described the Sea of Cortez as “the aquarium of the world,” and every time we visit our favourite beach, I understand what he meant.
The Magic You Find When You Pull Off the Road
It’s not always the big landmarks that stay with you. Sometimes it’s a car under a palm tree in the middle of nowhere, the hush of sand, the hugeness of the sky. Sometimes it’s just this.
Nature and Contrast in Baja: A Reflection from La Ventana
The tall green cactus—unyielding, wild, alive—pressed against the crisp geometry of a white concrete wall. Nature and structure. Prickly and smooth. One shaped by desert winds, the other by human hands.
Held in the Making
In these hands, what’s being shaped isn’t just clay — it’s a heart. A symbol of love, vulnerability, and becoming. It reminded me how much of who we are — our emotional contours, our soft spots, even our resilience — is shaped by the hands that hold us.
One Day, I’ll Bake
I’ve always wanted to learn how to make bread from scratch. Not just the quick kind, but the kind that asks you to slow down — to knead, to wait, to trust.
Mother and Child
My babies are all grown up now. The eldest just turned 29. My son is 21 turning 22 and my youngest is 15. My stepdaughter is 16. But boy, did this image evoke a feeling in me—of being that protector and that guide, and holding that responsibility gently, but seriously, in my heart.
Forest Walk
I know you don’t usually look like this when you're walking through the forest, but there’s something about this image that speaks to me deeply. I love that she’s barefoot—grounded, literally, with the Earth.
Windowseat Reverie
There’s a spaciousness in the desert that opens me up — not just outward, but inward.
What Colour Is the Sky?
I was thinking about that just now, how the sky is sometimes blue—but it’s also white. Red. Purple. Orange. Yellow. Pink. It holds every mood and moment. Every season and shift.
Space
There’s a spaciousness in the desert that opens me up — not just outward, but inward.
Ocean
This was one of those moments where my body knew something before my mind did.
Cactus
The light was golden and low, casting long shadows on the earth when I met this Joshua tree.
Desert
There are places that humble you. The desert is one of them.