Panic in Lack of Event

In a world saturated by content, stimulation, and speed, the absence of an “event” creates panic. Stillness becomes unbearable. The quiet space between things, between thoughts, images, and decisions, is vanishing in a storm of dopamine-driven urgency: breaking news, vertical scrolling, curated outrage, and algorithmic noise.

In this chaos, nuance disappears. Complexity is compressed. Compassion and deep listening give way to hot takes and the illusion of clarity. Social media accelerates polarization, pressuring people to choose sides, while others, those who hesitate, question, or hold multiple truths, are left voiceless. The result is not connection, but fracture.

Coming from a classical photography background, I always question the foundations of the medium, especially the notion of the “decisive moment,” a concept rooted in a male-dominated, Eurocentric tradition. What gets erased when we frame the world through a singular, supposedly objective lens? Can new forms of knowledge appear when we let go of the need to resolve, define, or conclude? What do we begin to see when we stop looking for clarity and start honoring contradiction?

Panic in Lack of Event does not present a single truth. Instead, it holds space for disorientation and multiplicity, asking the viewer not for judgment, but for presence.

It does not aim to document history, but to question who constructs it, and how. It seeks to expose the mechanisms that shape memory.

Maybe the real event begins there: in what we do not yet understand, in what we choose to hold raher than resolve.