“Overthinking Physically” is a phrase I once wrote in my diary, without context, yet it has lingered in my mind ever since. Looking at it again, I realise how perfectly it captures the sense of overwhelm I sometimes feel- the dissonance between body and mind. In the chaos of city life, this feeling is all too familiar. To escape it, I seek refuge in nature, where I can be surrounded by trees, the sound of the wind, and the stillness of water. In those moments, everything falls into place, and I find clarity, a space to reflect on the discomforts life has left behind.
There is a quiet, profound connection between us and the forest. We depend on trees for life, and in turn, they depend on us. We share a rhythm, a cycle- one of growth, of renewal, of quiet resilience. Our bodies too hold memories- imprints of trauma, thought, and experience. Every moment that shapes us, whether mental or physical, leaves its mark.
In trying to capture this “embodied memory” I have decided to document scars- those that can be found in both trees and skin. These marks may not always be visible, but they are a testament to change, to moments that altered us in ways both subtle and profound. We often see scars as imperfections, but I believe they are gentle reminders of our lived experiences- proof that we have endured, transformed and survived. No matter how many marks we carry, our skin continues to weave itself into something new, a protective layer that allows us to keep moving forward.
