Void & The irrelevant

What is Void?

The void is absence. It is silence where sound once was, emptiness where presence used to linger. Unlike tangible things, the void cannot be touched, only felt like air around us, invisible but undeniable. It lives in the pauses, in the spaces between moments, in the shadows between light.

In photography, the void becomes a negative space the expanse around a subject that speaks louder than the subject itself or the absence in and around the subject. In life, it arrives when we are removed from one place and not yet placed in another, those in-between states that stretch, ache, and test us. Spiritually, I believe the void is transformation. It is the transition that no one said would be easy. 

The void often begins with loss or change. A connection drifts, a season ends, a door closes, a light is turned off and the subject and it’s details are not seen. We hold on, we ache, we wonder why it hurts to let go.

To photograph the void is to capture loneliness, silence, and distance. It is the weight of absence present in the frame. Sometimes the void visits every day in small doses. Sometimes it creeps in every now and then. And sometimes it is overwhelming, so vast, so consuming, that even the void itself is not felt anymore. 

Yet, there is strange beauty. Just as negative space defines an image, the void defines our experiences. It gives shape to the photographs. In nature, the void does not apologize. 

Sometimes the void humbles us. In the grand scheme, void may not matter. Like in the show Person of Interest, where the Machine dismisses ordinary human problems as irrelevant, the universe may see our void as part of a larger pattern. The void is absence, but it is also possibility.

Empty, yes. Lonely, yes. If nature is not afraid of it, why should we be? 

Once you are a part of the void, irrelevance becomes your companion. The moment you leave a space, whether it was a place, a season, you no longer belong to it. For those who remain, you fade into the background. Even for yourself, the life you once lived there begins to lose its weight. That is the quiet cruelty of the void: the very ground that held you learns to stand without you, and so do you. The void is not just absence; it is the slow erasure of relevance from what once was.

The void will come, again and again. Sometimes sharp, sometimes soft, sometimes too heavy to even feel. But you cant fight it, we may learn to breathe it in. Once you are a part of the void, you are also irrelevant.