And then this pale blue dot in the universe
quietly circled the sun fifteen times.
186 full moons.
5,478 days and nights.
Hello, 2026.
Year 15 with you —
and the orbit is still us.
✨ ✨ ✨
跨年夜想到，很快就和你在一起15年了
2011年刚在一起的时候
方大同《15》刚发售
我在北京和你第一次同居的小房间里听《因为你》
那是微博的黄金年代
日本大地震
本拉登被击毙
iPhone 4 大卖，智能手机时代降临
……
然后这颗宇宙中的暗淡蓝点绕着太阳转了15圈
186次月圆
5478个日夜
你好，2026
我们都变好多吧，都胖了，我胡子都有了白色。从北京到上海再到曼谷，还有些深圳洛杉矶插曲。经历了那么多起伏，好像也没取到什么真经，疫情患难倒是受够了。有时候磕磕绊绊还像小孩子一样任性发脾气，一点没有老夫老妻的意思？如果人生有客观视角镜头，还能捕捉心声，或许清官能断家务事，谁对谁错算算清楚。可是没有。感情之路也从来没有判官，只有冷暖自知、相拥相伴。
方大同去年突然离世，我到现在都不敢相信，总觉得他的歌还在陪伴着我，是记忆里我和你有过的日子的背景音乐。
搬来曼谷戒了酒。但你还是会碎碎念说我不够健康。希望我早点睡、调整作息、乖乖吃药、好好健身。有些我做到了，有些我做了一点点，有些我还做不到。这些大问题小事情，我耳边总有个声音在问我：为什么？
“你写歌的灵感是哪里来的”
“这……”
“也许是天气 也许是运气
也许是因为有人不放弃”
《因为你》
去年新年放纵了一下喝了瓶清酒。今年也是。或许是新的惯例吧。
第15年，
我们还是一起过吧。
RESTLESS /// SHADES
The city never truly sleeps—it only shifts in tone.
Above the skyline, between glass towers and dark water, the body becomes another surface of light: wet skin, reflected shadows, passing signals from windows still awake.
This first collection begins where the city feels most honest—after hours, stripped of noise, reduced to form, atmosphere, and presence.
🌛 A personal photography study tracing cities, bodies, and atmosphere. 📷
Stay tuned for more from my first collection.
Model: Shane @imthat_shane
Camera: Fujifilm X-T5
Lens: Sigma 23mm F1.4 DC DN
#RestlessShades #NightPhotography #UrbanMood #PortraitPhotography #CityLights
In a city where rain is rare, you come across a bottle of Le Labo Baie 19. A curious word lingers beside it: petrichor—the name given to the clean breath of earth after rain. You inhale, and suddenly you are far away, in the silent fir forests of Hokkaido under heavy snow. A pine cone you picked from the white. Crows gathered in the branches, wise and watching.
Your nose led you into a waking dream.
When the first drop of rain touched the dust, everything held its breath. Then came a slow and reluctant release: earth turning beneath itself, grass trembling at the stem, the air thick with shattered droplets learning to gather again, falling in whispers. Wave after cool wave passed over skin—a faint trace of metal, a lazy drift of ozone, slipping into the lungs. Something woke. Something dissolved. Rain traveled down through the forest—from crown to root, from needle to soil.
You step out of the storm, yet it does not leave you. Your skin becomes a quiet wetland, breathing, expansive, holding dreams once dried by sunlight, always ready for another sky to open.
And someday a solitary traveler will appear, just as your dreams foretold. He will lean close and whisper: the only world I long to wander is the one within you. And with those words begins a season without end—an endless, tender rain.
