Solitude

Solitude in northern cities has its own temperature. It lives in the quiet cold of winter streets, in the distance between hurried steps, in the silent rituals of people who move side by side yet remain worlds apart. Here, individuality is both a shield and a habit, a way of navigating a place where warmth exists, but rarely reveals itself quickly.

Montreal shapes this solitude with a particular elegance. Its multicultural rhythm gathers many lives together, yet each one travels along its own invisible path. A lone figure moving like a passing shadow, another crossing an empty street, someone surrounded by the tremor of other silhouettes in a public place, these are not dramatic scenes, but everyday moments where the city reveals how connection and distance coexist.

In this gallery, solitude is not portrayed as despair. It is a quiet presence, a subtle architecture of space and emotion. It emerges when the day ends and nobody walks beside you, when your steps echo on their own, when the world continues unaware of your inner weather.

Through monochrome, I explore the way urban life fabricates these small distances, how people drift past each other with grace, how light touches those who walk alone, how a mundane scene can hold the weight of an inner landscape. Solitude becomes a mirror not of sadness, but of truth.

A truth familiar to anyone who has lived in a place shaped by cold seasons, reserved hearts, and the delicate balance between being seen and remaining unknown. This series invites the viewer to recognize solitude as a quiet force, not empty, but alive, shaping the way we inhabit our days.