Between appetite and ache, the body remembers how to speak.
Some urges don’t speak in full sentences. They just arrive—warm, reckless, asking to be felt before they’re named. I took this image thinking about how the body confuses hunger for wanting, wanting for hunger. And how often, we don’t correct it.
What fascinates me isn’t provocation, but the blur. The place where pleasure and need lean into one another. Where indulgence isn’t about excess, but about absence—something we keep trying to fill.
This photo isn’t about food. Not really. It’s about what we reach for when we think no one’s watching.
Or maybe, when we want someone to.
