Reflected Worlds

Nothing is just one thing.
Reflected Worlds slips between surfaces—where windows don’t just look out, they look back. The city repeats itself in glass and chrome, puddles and shadows. Echoes masquerade as clarity. Reality doubles, then blinks.

These aren’t reflections.
They’re revisions.
Each image is a layered confession: what’s there, what’s imagined, and what dares to exist in between. A storefront becomes a portal. A pane of glass tells two truths at once. What you see is only part of what’s looking.

Interior and exterior blur.
So do past and present. So does self and stranger. This is the architecture of duality—the quiet hallucination of walking past your own outline in a window and wondering who noticed.

Reflected Worlds asks: what if the mirror isn’t broken—just honest?

Reflections distort. They reframe. They ask us to question what’s true and what’s simply well-placed light. In this collection, buildings ripple, skies bend, and figures appear only as echoes. Reflected Worlds is about perception as much as presence. It’s a mirror—one that doesn’t always give a clear answer, but always gives you something to feel.

One part driver, one part streetlight. Caught in the city’s glassy overlap, he becomes both passenger and pilot of the morning.

Double Shift

Mid-kickflip and mid-shout, the red-jacketed skater flashes like a match against the blue ramp. Eyes watch, hands lift, and she rises into the trick like a spell being cast.

Flick & Fire

A floral riot, oversized shades, and the joy of being seen—and doubled.

Peacocks & Pineapples

Abstract pigment and midday heat. There’s something beautiful about art that doesn’t stay still.

Spectrum Carriers

Gripped handlebars, exposed ink, a flash of muscle and sweat. Tattoos wrap around limbs like armor, each one a story powered by pedals and persistence.

Spoke & Skin

Aerial view of a community basketball game—movement, sweat, and rhythm play out on a court faded with time and color. The peeling paint echoes the legacy of every game ever played here, unrecorded but remembered in bodies and breath.

Unwritten Rules

A vintage trolley holds stories behind each window pane. Laughter, weariness, and curiosity travel side by side, as a boy waves outward—an echo of childhood wonder within the city's steady pulse.

McKinney Avenue

A woman strides with confidence, her coat a pattern of bold defiance. Between shadows and blank walls, she claims her space. Grace and gravity coexist here—style as armor, and movement as statement.

In Transit

Side by side under the fair tent light—stitching together a moment of color and age and quiet understanding.

Stitched Together

He came for the art, but the gallery found him instead. Hat first. History second.

Seeing Colors

Downtown heat, golden-hour stride, and three styles telling three stories. Movement and mood reflected in stride.

Threefold Rhythm

Two men play chess beneath soft café lights, locked in thought. Time slows between moves. Their differences fade in the ritual of strategy, concentration, and quiet companionship.

Endgame Silence

A quiet moment mid-movement—balanced at the edge of momentum. This frame catches the threshold between control and collapse, as if the ramp is waiting to tip the story forward. Urban geometry and soft shadows create tension, but the stillness is temporary

Chasing the Grind

A lone commuter stares out the window as golden light slips across the city skyline. The train hums forward, but his thoughts stay behind. Caught between movement and memory, he becomes a silhouette in the fading day — part of the view, not the journey.

Sunset Commute 

A fully committed flight—knees bent, shirt whipping, shadow stretched across the street. The crowd is still, the board is not. This is what it looks like to meet the air with intent.

Between Moments

She’s not part of the crowd—she’s the punctuation mark in the middle of the sentence. Fierce, floral, forward.

Lady in Pink

Legs in motion, skin in story—this one’s walking through life like it’s already been inked.

Playing Peek-A-Boo

Art in the arrangement: fried edges, glowing heat lamp, and the quiet prep behind indulgence.

Indulgent Life

A mashup of eras, textures, and unfiltered self-expression. Street style that doesn’t apologize.

Cherry Books & Sidewalk Sparks

A skater levitates off the curve of the ramp in a full eruption of movement—board twisting, limbs extended. There’s no up or down here, only the blur between gravity and intention.

Out of Orbit

A barista works the espresso machine, morning light pouring through the café window like steam. Her posture and the cluttered counter reflect the quiet yet often overlooked art of repetition, of crafting care into every cup.

Overlooked

Five backs, five stances, and one shared pulse. This isn’t just about who’s next—it’s about being part of something bigger, facing the city and the trick with the same grounded defianc

Line Up

Condiments like candles, TV glow like stained glass—this diner’s altar is all grease, grit, and glory.

Hot Sauce and Halos

Perched and padded, a young skater rides the edge of courage. There’s no rush to drop in—just curiosity, heat, and a brick ledge that’s both obstacle and invitation.

Future Ledge

A quiet kind of intimacy—shared food, soft laughter, and a dog curled into the rhythm of the moment.

Saturday Steps

A quiet moment amidst the chaos—precision in the pour, copper glint in the light. While the streets hum with tricks, here it’s all about craft and ritual.

Pour Out

Frozen mid-air, the board lifts in a clean arc while the skater rides the line between street and sky. It's a study in angles and ambition, where focus overrides fear.

Street Geometry

A portrait of summer skin mapped with ink, where each tattoo reads like a page from a personal zine. The watermelon tee and woven beads nod to humor and youth, but the stillness of the hands suggests something quieter—an intermission between stunts and st

Flesh & Ink

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