The eye peers through broken shimmer—glass or stars, it’s unclear. In her grip, something fragile defies clarity, echoing a truth too dangerous to name aloud.
Art of Ones and Zeros
Welcome to my world rendered in absolutes—pure black and white, nothing in between. Each photo is crafted in 1-bit black and white where shadow and light battle for space, and emotion finds clarity in contrast. Stripped of color and grays, these works reveal raw presence, surreal quiet, and stories whispered through form. Here, the binary becomes deeply human.
Reach out on Instagram if you’d like to “collaborate”. It’s easier than you think. ~ Maxx
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She lingers on the threshold, light swallowing form, form resisting meaning. There’s no decision, only presence—an echo held in the space between one step and the next.
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Lit only by memory, the stillness wraps around her like a second skin. She isn’t lost—just caught between ascent and hesitation, waiting for nothing and everything.
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She reaches into void, suspended between motion and meaning. Not seeking touch, but offering presence—like punctuation in the dark.
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The cigarette doesn’t burn, it glows—barely illuminating the edge of a thought. She’s not smoking, she’s pausing time, staring into a silence only she hears.
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Reduced to bold geometry, the form becomes both intimate and anonymous. Each dot holds weight—suggesting identity while dissolving it in symmetry and code.
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The gesture is closed, yet the stare holds open a quiet storm. A hush falls over the empty space behind her, where tension coils just beneath the stillness.
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Midair and barefoot, caught in a moment that could be falling or flight. The shadow stretches quietly across the blank—suggesting motion, or memory, or both.
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Created to challenge gaze and gravity, this moment balances mischief with strength. The pose is deliberate, the stripes a silent siren—drawing you in, daring you to question who really holds the power.
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In a moment of stillness—where thought folds in on itself and emotion becomes touch. She isn’t looking away, she’s looking within, and the silence around her holds everything.
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Captured between headlight and hush, she walks like a whisper through the city’s electric pulse. The silhouette isn’t fleeing or arriving—just becoming, lit by the noise of nowhere.
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This moment was shaped in silence. The way her gaze reaches beyond the glass suggests something not yet spoken, a longing suspended in golden slivers of afternoon light.
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Caught between shadow and light. A moment of quiet introspection, the silhouette telling its own story.
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Standing at the window, the city sprawls out like a dream. A moment of quiet contemplation, watching the world wake up from above.
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Between the first sip and the first thought, she exists in perfect suspension. The light outside calls softly, but she stays wrapped in the hush of her own presence.
