These images were born not from landscape, but from the quiet radiance of glass —
from fragments once meant to filter sacred light.
Here, geometry becomes devotion; color becomes silence.
Each pane holds a breath of time,
where the imperfections of old stained glass — bubbles, cracks, veils —
turn into living textures of memory and light.

Windows is less a study of architecture than a meditation on transparency —
a passage from material to immaterial,
from the crafted to the infinite.
Through reflection and abstraction,
these photographs explore how light itself remembers —
how it paints, prays, and dissolves the boundary between seeing and feeling.

In these windows, the visible world does not speak — it glows