In this series, Hunger, the act of eating becomes a quiet surrender, a ritual of both nourishment and loss, where the fruit is not merely consumed but devoured, its richness leaving an imprint on the skin, on the soul.

Accompanying these images is an excerpt from Jeanette Winterson’s novel Written on the Body. In her words, the pomegranate transforms into a symbol of forbidden knowledge, of longing so deep it threatens to consume. It is the fruit of temptation, of creation, and of destruction all at once. The woman in these photographs does not merely eat; she immerses herself in the fruit’s richness, as if to taste it is to taste her own undoing.

The pomegranate, ripe with both sweetness and blood, is a metaphor for the complex nature of hunger: the hunger that binds the body to the earth and the heart to yearning. Each photograph is a moment suspended between the sacred and the profane, where desire unfurls like the fruit's many seeds—each one an echo of something larger, something never fully sated.

In Hunger, I seek to capture the quiet ferocity of longing, the unspoken violence in the act of consuming, and the delicate beauty found in surrender. It is an invitation to look at the hunger that lives within us all, to taste the fragility of desire, and to acknowledge the space between wanting and having—where both are, in the end, endlessly elusive.