There are certain feelings that seem to settle on your skin, lingering like faded perfume or wisps of last night’s cigarettes. The way citrus fumes on your fingertips long after you peel and eat it; the way two bodies sigh into each other like wet concrete; the way daffodils slowly unfold themselves when you place them in a patch of sunlight on the coffee table. The way we all open in the face of certain soft bends of light.
There are textures that are stitched to memories, that swallow you whole in a sea of longing, the way early morning sunlight sweeping the dark depths of winter feels like a revelation, the way we shed our skin with the seasons. Someone once told me that chemistry is someone touching your arm and it echoing through you like an earthquake. Someone once told me chemistry is someone looking at you the same way lightning looks at trees.
This atmospheric editorial from CERISE feels like a reoccurring dream, the kind that that hooks its teeth into your subconscious and leaves you tracing the fragmented edges of your memories at three in the morning, wondering what to make of all of it. Featuring the striking Haronid Vasquez submerged in shadowy sunlight and adrift in a shimmering sea of petal pink tulle, this photo and video set reminds us of all the ways we can be a mystery even to ourselves. We don’t see things as they are, we see things as we are. Emotions, like the dreams we knit together in our sleep, are never one dimensional. They are a million invisible threads just waiting to be pulled. They are as textured as the surface of the moon. A woman is a force of nature, someone once told me. Sometimes all we can do to settle the thunderstorm inside of us is wait for light to cut cleanly through the darkness, wait for the clarity that always comes, like the morning sun that tiptoes through our curtains and wakes us from a deep sleep.