Frequency Beneath
2016—2023
Compiled in 2025
Photography (B/W), Text
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Dialling through static, looking for a station. Sound waves spill from the speaker and wash over my cochlea, an intravenous drip into the brainstem, prodding, nudging, constantly agitating.
There’s a frequency underneath this noise. I find it in stages. On the elevated walkway between Shun Tak and IFC, in the spaces that separate people, my psychologist’s waiting room, the lanes of the municipal pool, my desk at 3am, the minutes following a cold plunge, the physical exhaustion after a run, within my girlfriend’s laugh.
A harmonic resonance in the sacred ordinariness of things felt, not seen.
There’s a moment in a Catholic Mass where the congregation offer each other the sign of peace; essentially, people shake hands and say, ‘Peace be with you.’ I remember this moment breaking through the boredom of our 9-year-old minds when we attended services at school. We’d slap hands and reach out to as many people as possible; peace, peace be upon you, peace be with you, peace out, we’d say.
Looking back now, there’s something quite beautiful about this collective breath, transforming the mundane into something else. To wish someone peace. I’ve never stopped to think about it until recently. I think it’s one of the nicest things to wish for another.
It’s in those small moments, between breaths and handshakes, that we tune into it without even knowing.
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