Southern California's summers are always dry and clear. Since moving to Sepulveda Basin, I’ve occasionally felt headaches from the intense sun and stagnant air, somewhat reminiscent of the feelings I had during Chicago winters. Having lived in the Los Angeles area for nearly two years, the number of photos on my camera has steadily diminished. I feel that photography is drifting further and further away from me, or perhaps it’s become harder to use this medium to express my confusion, anxiety, and love directly. The beginning of creating the 2nd photo book does not aim to continue the grand life project I once envisioned; it simply emerges from another bout of headache. In that moment, I decided to organize some inexpressible past emotions, hoping it might offer me some solace, or at least give me something to do during the blistering summer heat. After listening to a few stream-of-consciousness jazz albums, I chose to make this photo book square, like a CD or vinyl record, with chapter titles named after the tracks of an album. The cover photo of this book was taken in 2022 at White Sands National Park. The towering white sand dunes resemble the ice walls along Lake Michigan’s shore, a tide frozen by the deep winter’s cold embrace. Later, I printed some winter photos and hung them on the wall, a constant reminder to remain calm amidst life’s turbulence. Considering my very unstable progress on this project, this book might not be fully published until winter, so I’d like to (preemptively) wish you: "Good Winter (Bon Hiver)!"