This is my own first person narrative of the process of falling in love, being in love, and being a father. Photography allowed me to spend my twenties wandering with my camera, basically alone (though with a rotating cast of amazing characters) exploring the world and “finding myself.” But in my early 30’s I met Mika. Shortly after that, in the spring of 2013, I started making photographs of what we called “objects of unusual weight.” These “objects of unusual weight” developed into an odd sort of love poem.
These objects existed in a way that felt very improbable… Some of them were small, but seemed large. Others were heavy, but seemed light. In their state between order and disorder, and how the camera rendered them absolutely still, I couldn’t tell if the objects were collapsing or coalescing, crumbling or merging, dispersing or fusing. They resist categorization, though perhaps they do have something in common with that most simple icon for love, the heart: ♥. Is it coming together or breaking apart? Contracting or releasing? At any one moment, it’s impossible to know.
This miracle of love and human experience occurs when two people come together to create a third person. And so, two-and-a-half years after Mika and I met, and a year after we were married, Sora was born.
This series of photographs is an attempt to connect my passion/addiction for the medium with my love for Mika and Sora. Becoming a husband and a father has opened a new chapter of my life. It is certainly a bit more structured than the preceding years. I feel in tune with the seasons and the passing of time. Of course, I’ll never be able to connect and represent these ideals perfectly. Never the less, I’m obsessed with fitting this love into my photographs and fitting my photographs into this love.
This series is like what billions share with on social media: an odd family album that attempts to trace this new trajectory. In it, many threads come together; the “objects of unusual weight” flowed into photographs of my baby girl. I persist, with photographic addiction and passions unrelated to Sora and Mika co-existing with my life with them. Now these photographic whims have taken shape around this narrative of family. As I try to make my own symbols make sense to them, and to you. We all have our own unique details, and it’s these quirks are what make all the difference, that make our abstractions like ‘love’ just an imperfect representation of the wonderful specifics of our experiences.