There is a global reckoning taking place. All of us can feel it—I look upon the world and see the mask slipping. We cannot avert our eyes, and must now confront realities that had been neatly hidden behind beautiful facades. Living in interesting times means that a bleak outlook of the future becomes almost inevitable. If the world we live in continues to chug along the way it seemingly always has, what hope can we hold on to for things to change?

Hope is possibly humanity’s most invaluable tool. Hope lingers, unspoken, while the world toils away.

I’ve approached this photo essay by reimagining hope as an ever-present and ethereal sentinel: a red balloon—a splash of color against the cold grey of the city, or above the lush fields of mustard on the city's outskirts. A defiantly juvenile manifestation in a world that has no place for innocence.

The photos were a challenge to capture. A lot of them were premeditated and sketched out, and more still were just being in the right place at the right time, as always happens with a photo project. Composition was my primary focus: to put the balloon in a frame that easily allowed the viewers’ eye to travel across the image.

I placed the balloon in situations and locations that are my everyday, to give you a glimpse into the private and intimate, as well as the external. I wanted to demonstrate how the routines of a person can hold some of the most captivating and interesting compositions imaginable: inside the artist’s studio, inside secrets behind unlocked doors, with friends and family, during unplanned meanderings across town and interactions with people …

I purchased at least two balloons a day, after a naive first attempt to take a photo with a single balloon. Of course, it popped the very second I let go of it to take the picture. By the third day, the balloon vendor began pulling me in, raising two inquiring fingers, and waiting for my nod before signaling to another to bring me two red balloons on uncommonly long strings. These balloons would then be tied to sticks, rocks, empty bottles and even card holders to keep them in place. The balloons did not last longer than a few hours, but it was a comfort to know there were always more waiting.