Since an early age, November has been the time of year that press me into sad thoughts. When I wake up at 8 in the morning, I don’t feel grateful for the arrival of a new day; instead, my mind is filled with the worst curses, because it’s as dark as if I’d woken up at 3 a.m. During the day, it never gets sunny. The light remains dull, and by 4 p.m., it’s already starting to get dark. Every year, I get sick during this time and feel physically exhausted overall. By late August each year, I can no longer fully enjoy the summer, as the shadow of the cold, dark monster already looms.

I’ve been searching for a way to embrace November. The first hint came from The Selfish Giant by Oscar Wilde: “He did not hate the Winter now, for he knew that it was merely the Spring asleep, and that the flowers were resting.” Then, I reflected on my own experience: when I take street photos in spring and summer, I enjoy the beautiful light, which I use to paint on the city’s canvas. But what if I looked at November’s dull light without hate?

The result is this series, which explores the beauty of November’s dullness. After all, Spring is merely resting in it.