Sometimes what I love about taking portraits, or any kind of shots for that matter, is actually visualising what I see in front of me in shades and hues completely different from their actual nature. To capture the subtle but strong emotions of people at the very moment when I’m trying to capture them is what I vie for as a photographer, and sometimes I feel the colours just seem to take that charm away from them and distract viewers from the bare emotions.

Looking straight into those people’s challenging eyes—challenging because they’re daring you to see the truth of what really lies beyond—and if you succeed, into their soul. When I’m shooting without the taunting colours, I think to myself, can I stand up to their challenge, what can I do so that their true colours outshine the obvious facade, why am I so drawn to it and why would it stand out from the rest. And like I said, if you succeed, the story will come to you and mingle with your own to bring out a visual that’s foreign yet familiar to both of you.

My attachment to shooting in black-and-white goes much deeper than just flaunting a technique—it holds a special meaning to my heart even more so because I choose to colour those shots with my memories instead.