kevin o'farrell

A young man steps out of a car and scans the quiet street before moving toward the house. Every glance over his shoulder suggests the risk in being seen, the weight of something unspoken. At the door, a young woman appears — and the tension breaks. she folds him into her arms with a tenderness that feels urgent, like relief, like release. then the door closes behind them.

safe house is a visual story of longing and return, shadowed by the sense that this reunion is not entirely safe. The grainy black-and-white frames evoke old surveillance footage or half-remembered dreams — fragments of a moment that feels both intimate and illicit. This is a love shaped by absence, protected by secrecy, and briefly, blessed by sanctuary.