This series investigates how movement transforms the human figure into something uncanny and spectral. Where my concert photography explores collective energy and sound-to-color translation, this work focuses on the singular body in motion—how my visual snow syndrome causes movement to leave traces, afterimages that linger and accumulate into something almost supernatural.

The dancer, draped in flowing red fabric, becomes a vehicle for exploring how atypical neurology perceives motion differently. Each gesture leaves ghost traces in my vision; each turn of the body creates overlapping impressions that refuse to resolve into a single, stable form. Through long exposure and digital fermentation processes, I translate this perceptual experience into images that dissolve the boundary between documentation and hallucination.

The resulting photographs reference the dramatic chiaroscuro of old masters—bodies emerging from darkness, lit by theatrical spotlights that recall Baroque painting traditions. Yet these are not classical figures frozen in ideal form. They are bodies in the process of becoming something else: eldritch presences that occupy multiple positions simultaneously, fabric that trails like smoke or flame, limbs that multiply and dissolve.

This work asks what it means to photograph movement when your vision already transforms motion into layered traces. The camera becomes a collaborator in my neurological difference rather than a corrective to it. These images don't seek to freeze a decisive moment but to honour the temporal smearing that constitutes my lived experience of watching bodies move.

The series positions neurological difference as a gateway to alternative visual languages—where the "noise" of atypical perception reveals movement's true complexity, creating images that feel simultaneously ancient and otherworldly.