Doors of Mykonos: Thresholds in Blue, White, and Time

I went to Mykonos expecting to photograph the sea. Instead, I found myself photographing doors.It wasn't planned. There was no project in mind, no carefully prepared shot list, and certainly no intention of creating a book. I simply began to notice them.They were everywhere-brilliant blue against whitewashed walls, old timber worn smooth by years of sun, iron gates opening onto hidden gardens, and small entrances that seemed to disappear into the buildings around them. Some were carefully maintained; others carried the unmistakable marks of time.And none of them told me what was on the other side.That was precisely what made me stop.One photograph became another, and before long I realized that I had unintentionally begun documenting something much larger than a collection of doors. Each threshold seemed to tell a small piece of the island's story-of color and craftsmanship, age and renewal, privacy and welcome.Doors of Mykonos is the result of that accidental journey. It is a visual walk through cobalt blue, sun-faded timber, whitewashed walls, iron gates, unexpected reds and greens, and the small thresholds that separate the public streets from private island life.Sometimes the most memorable parts of a journey aren't the things we travel thousands of miles to see.Sometimes they're simply the things that make us stop walking.