Before I became a photographer, I spent years traveling through South Asia as part of my work in fashion. What began as professional travel slowly became something far more personal—a journey into color, complexity, and contradiction.

India, in particular, shaped me in ways I could not have imagined. It made me deeply aware of how fortunate I was—to have grown up with access to education, stability, and peace. The contrasts I witnessed there left a lasting mark. I began to look not only at textiles and design, but at the stories woven into the everyday: how people lived, worked, endured, and created.

In the 1980s, I also spent significant time in Hong Kong and the surrounding territories, before its return to Chinese sovereignty. That experience remains one of the most formative of my life. The energy of the city, the tension between two futures, the sheer intensity of that time—it left a permanent imprint.

Years later, I returned to the region with a camera. I was no longer searching for inspiration, but for connection. My work had shifted. I had learned to wait longer, to observe more quietly, to follow light and gesture rather than just design. What I found in South Asia was not a single story, but countless threads—each one leading in a different direction, each one teaching me how to see more clearly.