These are the photographs that shouldn't work. Double exposures shot on 35mm film, intentional blurs, light leaks embraced rather than discarded. They exist in the space between seeing and remembering — not the thing you looked at, but everything your eye passed over on the way there.
Film records these accidents as fact. When two moments overlap on the same frame, the emulsion doesn't distinguish between them. What looks like error is evidence: light that actually existed, hitting silver halide crystals in the same physical space. The blur isn't uncertainty. It's everything that was there, all at once.
Memory works this way too. Not as clean snapshots but as accumulations — images bleeding into each other, details sharp in unexpected places, the peripheral somehow more vivid than what we meant to see.

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