In Still Fighting the Wind, Robert Levy presents a raw and darkly poignant visual parable about the human condition.

Across seven photographs, we witness a cycle as old as time itself — the surge of fury, the clash against invisible forces, the slow surrender to futility, and the haunting loneliness of struggle left unfinished.

The Fury images explode with wild, almost mythological energy. A man lifts a stone to the heavens, an avatar of rage and resistance, larger than life yet achingly human in his vulnerability. His fury is primal, theatrical — and inevitably, unsustainable.

The Futility and Sadness sequence descends into a quieter, more devastating emotional register. Wrestling a broken industrial fan, the figure clings to the illusion of control, his efforts entangled in the literal and symbolic debris of defeat. Ultimately, he is left alone in a shattered landscape, a monument not to victory but to endurance.

These images are both absurd and deeply serious. They echo the timeless battles we each face — against entropy, against irrelevance, against our own illusions of mastery. Levy's work reminds us that there is a strange and bittersweet nobility in the very act of trying, even — and perhaps especially — when the effort is doomed.

In the end, we are all still fighting the wind.