When I was twenty years old, me and my team found ourselves in the police station, separately being interrogated in a tiny room at 10pm at night. We had been there for six hours, being asked question after question. We each also had our very own good cop/bad cop. My…

An essay on a photoshoot day — The sun beat down on us as we carried our strange array of items to the shore. We were in the deep countryside of Kyoto, so far to the edge that we reached the Japan sea. The water was clear, and at this season it was inhabited by small bobbling…

The mind sits thick as mud, and I feel self-pity begin to rise within my body. Will it always be like this? I am impatient for the things I can see happen, and I wonder when this feeling will pass. This is a poignant process, one we are all familiar…

Those close to me know this, but I am not a believer in fate or destiny. It pairs with a skepticism of spirituality and religion, if not a criticism of them. These are traits that I believe developed in adulthood after growing up in a severely religious household. I seek…

Finding a center in the midst of the mad rush — We are not here to live perfect lives. I know this, but to apply it to everyday thought has remained a challenge for me over the years. My inner climate can change abruptly, and for a while I’ve been trying to persuade myself that this manic rush is good . …

Notes from a photographer — A ding of a bell echos through the linoleum hallway. The bell is from the front desk of the art museum. I had never heard that sound in an art museum before, especially not one this large. A single customer pinging to be let in, the staff absent, not expecting…

You can’t be everywhere at once — An uneasiness. A rush. The push to keep going. Even the few minutes that I was waiting for the train, this anxiety was given all of my attention instead of taking in the moment. One might feel that the commonplace nature of waiting at the station may disqualify it from…

A relief from the mental desert — The poetry, I think it’s still there. I haven’t been able to hear it these days, but every once in a while the memory of it floats through me, and I am there again. When the muses and the Gods were present. I am starting to understand a little bit…