by Nadine Ali

For as long as I can remember, I have searched for love attempting to find moments of warmth and solace in a city that never rests. I have yearned to understand what it means to cherish the fleeting, to love what is mortal and destined to fade. This journey is my own recollection of intimacy, a reflection of how it once felt to hold and be held. These moments of intimacy that that exist linger in the spaces we rarely notice. Our homes, our beds, the arms of those we love, the tenderness of a mother’s prayer, the soft whisper of a bird that fits perfectly in the palm of your hands.
I have learned to understand what it means to embrace something even as I know it will one day be gone. Love that once felt so difficult to find, yet is buried within the memory of my body. Existing not in permanence but in the way it made me feel. Love does not tell us when or where to expect it. It does not tell you to prepare for loss. Love etches itself in your memory and leaves its trace on your being.
I was lucky to be trusted enough to be present in the homes of the people I photographed. It felt so special to observe them existing together, unbothered by me or my camera, as I witnessed their most heartfelt moments and conversations. Reminding me of my own memories of those I loved and lost.
















