Behind old carved wooden doors in Hong Kong, an entire world compressed itself into a single window. Calendars, cigarette packaging, florals, liquor advertisements, handwritten notes, birds, typography, lucky symbols, faded illustrations, layer upon layer upon layer.

Completely overcrowded. Completely beautiful.

Nothing matches, yet everything belongs together. Pale pinks beside tobacco browns. Soft jade greens against faded creams and deep blacks. Delicate flowers interrupted by bold numbers and cigarette logos. A city speaking through paper.

The repetition of the number 28 creates an almost hypnotic rhythm. Certain fragments feel carefully preserved behind the glass. Others already seem halfway dissolved by sunlight, humidity, and time.

One image hiding another. Corners folding over forgotten details. Tiny discoveries appearing everywhere the eye lands. The longer you look, the less finished the composition becomes.

On textile, the layering creates extraordinary depth. From afar, graphic and bold. Up close, almost impossible to stop exploring.

ALMANAC feels less like a window and more like Hong Kong refusing to simplify itself.