About

Welcome ghouls, I'm Engel. 

This blog is a collection of fragments: photographs, thoughts, and memories caught in soft focus. I created this space to capture the moments where I see what nobody around me seems to. The stillness after music fades, the glow of dusk before the night settles in, the hum of the wind that drowns the silence when you're alone...

Here you’ll find everyday scenes dressed in quiet gloom, textures of a world I see through a lens tinted with longing, decay, and beauty. Some posts speak louder than others. Some only whisper. But they all belong here.

I don’t believe in perfection. I believe in raw edges, worn lace, wilted petals, and the kind of silence that says everything.

You'll find that my mind is quite often a bizarre place; but if you are able to unfold its layers, you'll hopefully see the beauty within it, and maybe be able to see life the way I do.

This is for the ones who find comfort in the dark, in things out of the ordinary; for the dreamers, the seekers. For those who enjoy giving life an artistic purpose.


Thank you for wandering here.

Stay as long as your heart wills.

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Roots in the Soil of Everyday Life

I long for friendships that are made and rise into adulthood, not the fleeting kind that glow for a season and fade, but the ones that anchor themselves quietly, growing roots in the soil of everyday life. I want friends who will teach me how to play poker, and laugh when I bluff too boldly. Friends whose guest room is half mine already, a place where my toothbrush and slippers wait like I never left. Friends who deal the cards between glasses of wine, between board games and long conversations that drift from nonsense to confessions without anyone noticing. Friends who may be older in years, but carry the same youth in their laughter that I feel in my own chest. Friends whose wives and husbands become my own friends too, a circle of warmth that feels less like company, and more like family. I want the kind of friends I can call at strange hours, to carry on a joke from last week as if no time has passed at all. Friends who send me a photo of a song on the radio, a song we once screame...
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Far Away

I lean my forehead against the glass. I feel the cold press into it. I don’t open the window. My eyes scan the view below me, searching for something I can’t quite comprehend. A single street lamp lights up the quiet, empty street. There are no people at this hour of night.  No movement. Comfort doesn’t find me. I think now that I could open the window, sit against the ledge, as my feet dangle in the air. Or maybe I could go down the stairs,  open the front door and step outside, even for a moment.  But fear crawls through my mind.  The thought leaves my brain, though its essence lingers in the air.  And fear turns to sadness. The room I’m in is warm, compared to the harsh cold on the streets,  but it doesn’t bring me calm. Inside, there is a light coming from a hallway somewhere that seems far,  though it’s barely meters away.  The television is on, playing a black and white show I  stopped paying attention to twenty minutes ago. It’s late, ...
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Where the Water Speaks Softly

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The lake knows secrets I'll never tell. The birds just listen, and carry them on their wings. Not so long ago, I went to one of the prettiest places I've ever been in. A lake that looked like it belonged to some forgotten dream... still, turquoise, and alive with the flutter of birds and the hush of trees. I chose this as my first post because these are some of my favourite photos I’ve ever taken. Not just for how they look, but for how they made me feel when I was there, and how they make me feel every time I look at them. In this quiet place, surrounded by light and wings and water, I felt… found. Like the world paused just long enough to let me see myself in it. There was something about the way the birds moved... unbothered, free; that stayed with me. The trees reached inward like they knew secrets. The lake didn’t reflect me; it held me. These are fragments of that stillness, of that softness. A beginning, not loud but true.  
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