Out beyond the noise and neon, where skyscrapers slice the horizon like punctuation marks in a city that never sleeps, nature reminded us who the original artist was. The skyline bleeds into a vibrant display, dissolving concrete into silhouette. It was the kind of light that makes everything—offices, apartments, shops—feel like relics in a dream.
A communion. between man and Nature.
Jakarta didn't ask for perfection that day. It handed me contrast: the manufactured pulse of humanity echoing beneath the timeless hush of the sky. And in that tension, I saw a mirror of what this next chapter demanded—documenting not just what we’ve built, but what we’re on the edge of losing.
Shot just before I left for my first big conservation documentary, this moment grounded me. Not in fear. In purpose. In awe.
Because the future isn't always found in pristine places—it often begins in the cracks, the edges, the wild in-between.
