I began to take pictures of my own laundry. With my life restricted by the Corona Disaster and my vision obscured, I have begun to pay more attention than before to the ordinary, overlooked, narrow landscapes of my life, motifs that I only notice when they are photographed.

Washing clothes is one of the household chores that I take for granted every day, but doing it on a sunny day feels like a special act to me. The moment when I feel the sunlight and wind is pleasant, and the clothes seem to accumulate the passage of time of the day.

Despite being a private existence strongly connected to the lifestyle of an individual or a house, laundry, which is sometimes hung outside to dry and exposed to the public eye, is like a filter that drifts between the private and public spaces.

The presence of someone who washed the clothes, hung them out to dry, and will come back to pick them up in the near future is felt in the laundry, even though it is exposed to the elements. Even after being exposed to wind and rain. The laundry is there as a trace of someone’s life. I am fascinated by the resilience of human life that laundry evokes, and I continue to photograph it.





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