Threshold Figures exists in the in-between—moments caught just before arrival, just after departure, or right as something unnamed begins. These are portraits of movement without faces, presence without introductions. People appear as silhouettes, shadows, or fleeting outlines—caught on the edge of something: a doorway, a crosswalk, a threshold of thought or transition.

This series is not about identity in the traditional sense. It’s about the suggestion of it—the trace of a story in posture, proximity, or pause. In these scenes, the city becomes a stage and its passersby the silent narrators of lives we’ll never fully know. There’s something sacred in the anonymity, something universal in the gesture of someone mid-step or turning away.

Shot in monochrome, the images remove distraction, asking you to feel instead of simply see. Threshold Figures is a meditation on what it means to exist within a fleeting moment—neither here nor there, but undeniably real.


Work in Progress

Caught in a sliver of light between movement and stillness, a man clutches a paper bag as if holding more than objects—perhaps expectations, survival, or silence. His heavy boots, fur-lined hat, and layered clothing suggest resilience.

The Weight We Carry

Energy surges from every corner of the frame—a blur in the background, a foot mid-flick, a crowd paused in their own rhythm. This black-and-white capture leans into the pulse of the scene, where each detail hums with motion and resistance.

Can't Stop, Won't Stop

Drifting By 

The weight of years sits lightly on him, flour-dusted hands in motion, face caught mid-story. Here, the threshold is warmth—where labor meets laughter, and bread is both currency and connection.

Bread & Banter

Warm bricks, open doors, and the weight of nothing to do. The man leans into the slow hour; the dog is already gone to dream. Life unfolds quietly where no one is rushing.

Siesta at 1948

In the heat of day and rhythm of wheels, a loose circle of skaters bends the city to their tempo. Street becomes stage, gesture becomes language, and here—beneath the trees—they claim their fleeting dominion.

Half Pipe, Full Circle

A quiet transaction layered against the hum of the city—this moment folds two worlds into one: the interior rituals of routine and the reflective sprawl of the skyline beyond. Presence becomes reflection. Stillness becomes performance.

Silhouettes in Stillness

Three figures in profile, caught mid-thought. One wears headphones like armor, another watches the world with a guarded jaw. Their bodies lean just forward, always forward—into the noise, into the blur.

Listening for Impact

A gesture, a grin, a quiet kind of swagger. On two wheels, against the grain, he owns the lane. This image doesn’t ask for permission—it just says, “I’m here.”

The Salute

Etched for No One

Every move is a study in restraint. Beneath the trees, strategy replaces speech and time loosens its grip. A sidewalk tournament becomes something ancient—ritual, rivalry, and respect in public view.

The King's Pause

Youth clustered in thought, breath, and posture. A trio framed by concrete and waiting—the stillness before the grind, the camaraderie between bruises. Life rides beside them, unhurried.

The Pause Between Tricks

A mobile home, meticulously arranged, quietly holding its ground. Each layer tells a story—fabric, weight, and survival—stitched together in the margins of a city that moves too fast to notice.

Home in Fragments

A moment stitched from bodies in motion and conversation. Elbows on knees, hands on tools, gazes tilted skyward or inward. The ramp is their altar; the asphalt, a fellowship of bruised knees and unspoken codes.

Spectator State

A body sprawled in stillness, a wheel forever turning. Here, the street offers rest, not respite. The city spins on, indifferent. He remains—part of the pavement, part of the picture.

Spinning World

Velocity in service. The arrow points, the engine obeys. A visual echo of urgency, frozen mid-mission. This is motion made iconic—duty drawn in rubber and line.

Arrow in Motion

In the flood of bodies and branding, individuality surfaces like static through signal. This is the theater of the everyday—posed by no one, performed by everyone.

Surface Parade

What’s more telling—the absence of people or the presence of locks? This tableau of tethered furniture is less about theft and more about tension. Anchored to safety, but emptied of use.

Security Measures

Using Format