Breaking the Script: The Story Behind My Work

The Vision Behind My Work

After launching my first website, I quickly decided to create a visiting card. It felt like the next logical step—something tangible to represent my work and share with others. But when I finished designing it and ordered my first batch, I wasn’t entirely sure what I wanted to do with them. Something felt off.

The card featured individual graphics layered together to form a kind of visual story, with the name of my website subtly integrated into the design. But that was it—just some artwork and a hidden link to a website that, at the time, didn’t offer much beyond a gallery of images. I realized there wasn’t much point in handing the cards out as a form of promotion. They lacked purpose, and so, like many ideas that feel incomplete, they ended up forgotten—tucked away in my wallet, a few always lingering but rarely noticed.

It wasn’t until I started working on my new website that I revisited the idea. There was this moment when I noticed my visiting card while not only redesigning the site itself but already in the middle of adding my Fine Art Prints to the store. That’s when the idea hit me: ‘What if I took the graphics from this exact visiting card and transformed them into something more?’ That’s how the concept of creating T-shirts, using the designs from the card, was born.

The front of my visiting card presenting a visual story open to interpretation. It’s a collection of symbols, elements, and ideas that connect photography, cinema, and storytelling. It invites you to see beyond the surface—to find your own meaning, just as I do in my work. Everyone can perceive this image in their own way, making it a personal experience rather than just a design.

On the back, there’s a simple but powerful line: "The less you say, the more you see."—placed beneath a triangle encasing an eye, surrounded by radiating lines and symbols. This phrase serves as a quiet reminder: sometimes, by stepping back and observing instead of rushing to speak, we notice the subtleties, the hidden truths, and the deeper layers of the world around us. It reflects my approach to art and life—to look closer, think deeper, and capture the unseen.

The visiting card had been designed in a way that required a closer look to find the name of my website—inviting curiosity and a moment of discovery. But when it came to the T-shirts, I wanted something different. This time, it wasn’t about hidden messages or layered meanings. I wanted to create something meaningful and direct—something that could resonate with others.

When I started working on the text for the T-shirts, my goal was simple: I didn’t want just a graphic on fabric. I wanted something more—words that connect, especially with photographers, creators, and individuals who might understand or appreciate the message. I hoped the designs would resonate with others in the same way they did with me, maybe even inspiring someone along the way. I also aimed for some of the graphics to align with the text, creating a cohesive design that made sense visually and conceptually.

Originally, I had created the new website with Fine Art Prints in mind, but adding T-shirts became a natural extension of the creative process. At first, they were just another addition to the store—without much context or story behind them. That’s why this post was created: to tell that story, to explain how a simple visiting card sparked an unexpected path, leading to something I hadn’t originally planned.

What started as a forgotten card, made less than a year ago, turned into something more—a way to express ideas, connect with others, and share a part of my creative journey.

The Meaning Behind My Work

We live in a world that feels like a carefully written script—one designed long before we’re even born. A system built to keep us in line, filling our minds with expectations, rules, and most effectively—fear. We’re told we have freedom, that we can speak our minds, but the moment you question the system or try to break free from it, you’re met with silence, dismissal, or worse, labeled as crazy.

We’re raised to believe in this illusion of choice, but from an early age, the path is already laid out for us. Go to school, follow the rules, get a job, take on debt, work until you’re too old to enjoy life—and if you’re lucky, retire before time runs out. It’s the same cycle, generation after generation, and no one questions it because it’s all we know. We’re not taught to think differently because that would threaten the very system that thrives on our submission.

For most of my life, I didn’t see it. I was lost, drifting through the motions, trapped in a cycle that didn’t make sense but felt impossible to escape. I didn’t know what I wanted from life, and I struggled with depression—a deep, suffocating feeling that I couldn’t shake. And yes, depression is real, no matter what anyone tries to tell you. It’s the byproduct of a broken system that drains us of purpose and leaves us questioning our worth.

I woke up at 28. It wasn’t some dramatic, earth-shattering moment—it was gradual. A realization that the life I was living wasn’t really mine. It had been scripted for me, and I had followed it without question. But once that awareness set in, I couldn’t unsee it. And as painful as it was to confront, it was liberating too. Better to wake up at 28 than never at all.

But even after waking up, it doesn’t get easier. Awareness doesn’t fix everything, but it gives you a chance to fight—to change something, even if it’s just within yourself. I started asking deeper questions: Why did no one tell me this sooner? Why didn’t anyone in my family see it? But the truth is, they were trapped too, just trying to survive, living day to day without time to question it.

In this world, we’re taught to survive, not to live. We push through each day, each month, each year, hoping for a break that may never come. We put dreams on hold for a future that isn’t guaranteed. And all the while, the system keeps us busy, distracted, and obedient.

For me, photography was the lifeline that pulled me out. It gave me something to hold onto, a purpose that felt real. Through the lens, I found moments of freedom, moments where I could create something meaningful—something that wasn’t part of the script.

But even in pursuing my passion, I faced the same doubts and judgments that come with living in this system. I remember someone close to me once saying, 'Why do you consider yourself a photographer if you don’t even have a degree in this field?' It was a rhetorical question about a completely different profession, yet it still felt like it was directed at me. It wasn’t meant kindly—it reflected the mindset we’re raised with: that we need someone else’s validation, a piece of paper, to prove our worth.

But here’s the truth: You don’t need anyone’s permission to follow your passion. You don’t need a degree to be a photographer, an artist, a creator. If it lights something inside you, if it gives you purpose, that’s enough.

Of course, there are fields where formal education is essential—if you want to be a doctor and save lives, or a teacher shaping young minds, you need the right knowledge and training. But even teachers are often limited by rigid systems, forced to stick to curriculums rather than teaching the deeper, more meaningful lessons we really need. For creative pursuits like photography, it’s not about certificates or validation—it’s about passion, dedication, and what you create from within.

This mindset became the driving force behind my T-shirt designs. They weren’t just about slapping graphics onto fabric. I wanted them to carry a message—something that would resonate with people who feel the same way I did, those who are searching for meaning or questioning the path they’ve been told to follow.

The phrases I chose for the shirts came from these reflections. Words on the front of the T-shirt, as shown below: 'We are all creating our own stories. Don’t let anyone, or anything control you.' This is paired with an illustration of a puppet controlled by strings, symbolizing how external forces—society, expectations, or even self-doubt—can manipulate us if we let them. It's a reminder to reclaim your narrative.

On the back, the message reads: 'Your story matters; let it be authentically yours.' Next to it, a figure is seen placing puzzle pieces together, representing the journey of building one's identity, piece by piece, in a way that is true to oneself. This visual emphasizes the importance of self-expression and the freedom to shape your own path.

They’re simple but powerful reminders that you have the right to live life on your terms. That your story is yours to write, not something dictated by a system that doesn’t have your best interests at heart.

Creating these designs was my way of taking back some control—of using my work to challenge the narrative and hopefully inspire others to do the same.

We might not be able to change the whole system overnight, but we can start with ourselves. We can create, express, and push back in small but meaningful ways. And sometimes, that’s enough to spark something bigger.

Final Thoughts

In the end, it’s not just about visiting cards, T-shirts, or even photography—it’s about waking up to the realization that we’re all more than the roles we’ve been assigned. Creativity became my way of breaking free, of writing my own story instead of following the script handed to me.

We are all creating our own stories. Some of us are still figuring out what that story is, while others are rewriting the ones we’ve been forced to live. But the power to shape it has always been there—it just takes a moment of clarity to see it.

If there’s one thing I hope you take from this, it’s that your story matters—regardless of what anyone tells you. Don’t wait for permission. Don’t wait for the ‘right time.’ Start now. Create, express, rebel in your own way.

Because at the end of the day, we’re all just trying to find meaning in a world that often tries to strip it away. So, make yours count.