Read Your Photography | Tracing the Texture of Time | Focus #625

offers the text-centric social media platform . Every day, countless forms of expression are posted from around the world.

In 'Read Your Photography', we focus on the stories behind photographs—narratives that cannot be encountered by simply looking. Alongside works collected through Threads, cizucu Magazine translates the background and unique moments behind each image into 12 languages, sharing them globally.

Choosing to keep your story in your heart is one option. Yet, sharing those feelings may quietly touch someone else and spark new, unseen inspiration.

On cizucu's Threads, a 'photography theme' is occasionally posted.
All you need to do is reply with 'your photograph' that fits the theme.

The only requirement to participate is to follow cizucu on social media 💙
From the submitted works,
those selected will receive a message from the cizucu editorial team!

This time, we are introducing works by five artists from around the world.
Let us gently peek into these unique stories.

CLori

📷 SONY α7C II
📚 01

On a small piece of paper, there are tiny letters, and a butterfly appears to be reading them.
Or perhaps it just happened to land there by chance.

Maybe I want to trace the source of this light, and in doing so, I also observe the butterfly.
Or perhaps I want to observe the butterfly, and in doing so, I notice the light.
I am deeply grateful to have captured this moment.

It feels just like me. Finally finding something, groping my way forward, staying if it feels safe, shining if it fits, and being noticed by someone. If not, I become like mud in the shadows.

Having lived for 21 years, I have become more perceptive with each passing year. But at the same time, I have also come to wish not to see through everything.

I wonder what the butterfly thinks. Does it have worries? Interests or hobbies?
Perhaps what it is reading is just a fleeting three-minute fascination. I am the same.
I will probably never see through this world.

When the light shines on me, I am seen by others.
But that is not my time.
When the light does not shine, no one notices me.

But all of that is my own time.
My time suddenly becomes precious.


cizucu Editorial Team
We were deeply moved by how such quiet contemplation could unfold from a single photograph. The gaze that overlays the butterfly, the light, and yourself is delicate and sincere. The tension between becoming perceptive and wishing not to see through things is, in itself, a testament to sensitivity. Both the moments in the light and those in the shadows are equally irreplaceable. We are truly grateful that you have preserved this realization through your photography.

hiro_photograph_0113

📷 OLYMPUS IMAGING CORP. E-510
📚 02

Higashi Chaya District, one of Kanazawa's premier tourist destinations.
Today, it is bustling with visitors from across Japan and abroad.

However, when the COVID-19 pandemic spread worldwide, followed by the 2024 Noto Peninsula Earthquake, all traces of people vanished from this popular area.

I captured this sense of desolation in my photograph.
I will never forget the kindness of everyone from Taiwan, who were among the first to extend their support.


cizucu Editorial Team
The sight of Higashi Chaya District, once vibrant, now enveloped in silence, is striking. This work quietly captures not only the glamour of a tourist destination but also the uncertainties of our era and society. The deserted landscape seems to hold not just loss, but also the weight of time awaiting renewal. The gratitude expressed for support from Taiwan elevates this piece beyond mere documentation, conveying the bonds between people. It is a truly sincere work that passes memory on to the future.

Lawrence Liou

📚 03

That day, at Plaza de España, I stepped into a space where I no longer needed to rush to prove myself. Once, photography was an 'answer' for me—an answer to the world, to expectations, to the question 'Am I good enough?'

But among these ruins—colonized, forgotten, and slowly forgiven by time—I realized something. The significance of a place is not always meant to be explained.

Light passed through the fissures of history, quietly falling on the window frame and mottled wall.
It did not boast of how many centuries it had endured, nor did it rush to illuminate anyone's answer. It simply lingered, as if waiting.

Waiting for time to finish telling its story. At the moment I pressed the shutter, I was not trying to grasp anything—not grandeur, not perfection, not even 'beauty.' I just wanted to preserve that moment.

I finally allowed myself not to be the 'striving person' in the photograph.
What this image records is not the landscape, but the moment I truly stood before history, acknowledged my own smallness, and felt quietly accepted by it.

If photography is an act of 'reading,' then that day, what I read was not Guam's past, but the present self who had finally begun to walk slowly.

And I wish to pass this quietude on to those still on their journey.


cizucu Editorial Team
Standing before history and accepting one's own smallness—this photograph captures that moment, imbued with profound stillness. It is not a work that seeks to provide answers, but one that allows for simply 'being.' Just as the light lingers quietly without haste or pride, the gaze placed in that space is palpable. Photography as an act of rereading one's own time, beyond the landscape itself—this quiet resolve and gentle strength are unmistakably present here.

Lam Tsz Fung

📷 NORITSUKOKI EZ Controller
📚 04

This is my grandmother.
This photograph was taken after our reunion dinner in 2022.
It was the last meal we shared together.

I can no longer clearly recall the sound of her voice.
Nor the warmth of her hands, or the exact taste of the dishes she made. But her face and the lessons she taught me remain vivid.

"If you can choose between being right and being kind, choose kindness."

During the SARS outbreak in 2003, when schools were closed, I spent every day at home with my grandmother.
It was then that she told me these words. I do not know where she heard them.

Like many of her generation who grew up during wartime, she could not read.
Yet those words took root deep within me. They became part of how I move through the world.

My grandmother's life was shaped by hardship. She did not even know her own birthday.
She left China during the war and came to Hong Kong. She carried memories of her childhood, years of conflict, stories of fear and hunger, and a stubborn hope that never faded.

When she spoke, you could feel both the frustration of what she had endured, her empathy for others, and the strength that kept her moving forward. She was proof that wisdom does not require formal education.
It resided in her steady hands, her attentive listening, and in a perfectly seasoned bowl of soup.

And it lives on in the quiet courage to choose kindness, even when being right would be easier.

Thank you, Grandma.

I miss you.


cizucu Editorial Team
The weight of time and quiet affection shared with your grandmother is palpable throughout your words. Even as the contours of memory fade, the 'kindness' she taught you continues to live on. A single photograph can hold a person's voice, philosophy, and even the era they lived through. The advice to choose kindness over being right will surely take root quietly in the hearts of readers as well. Thank you for sharing such precious memories.

shannyeh

📚 05

In the lands of the Maasai Mara in Africa, I saw Maasai children running and playing barefoot, feeling the warmth of the earth beneath their feet.

At that moment, I realized: for them, the land is not a 'landscape' as I see it, but an inseparable part of their being since birth.

There is no barrier of soles; they feel the texture, temperature, and scent of the earth directly through their feet.
The most primal and direct connection between them and the land is still preserved.

This relationship was deeply striking to me.
'Standing on the land' can be such a real and instinctive act.

Their footprints remain in the mud, only to be swept away by the wind and sand in an instant.
Yet, the energy of the earth is deeply rooted and alive within Maasai culture.


cizucu Editorial Team
The warmth in your gaze toward the children running barefoot across the land is deeply moving. Rather than consuming the land as a 'landscape,' your work quietly conveys a respect for the life and culture that thrives there. Even if footprints are erased by the wind, the warmth and heartbeat remain. This is a photograph filled with gratitude and affection for the encounter.

How did you find it?

We want to focus on the allure that cannot be fully conveyed through visuals alone. 'Read Your Photography' is a project that turns to the thoughts and emotions behind photographs, receiving them as stories.

What is captured is just a fleeting moment. Yet behind it, there is a flow of time and unspoken feelings.

We hope you will savor these works as if reading a photograph, as if turning the pages of a book.

Look forward to the next edition of 'Read Your Photography.'
Follow cizucu on social media and stay tuned 📚