When I get too stressed and life gets to be too much, there’s a place I run away to. There’s not much there now – a small building with no roof, an old car, and this ruin, with two walls remaining. But it’s hidden. It’s quiet. All I will ever see there are birds and bugs. The photos I take there are always a bit melancholy. The black and white makes them more so. And since I’m always melancholy when I’m there, I think that’s appropriate.