Reflecting

The eye gives meaning to the vibrations all around us. I am not a professional photographer; I am a builder and a journalist. My cameras and my fountain pens are the instruments I use to capture the light reflecting off molecules suspended in space, creating this dream we call a lifetime.

I didn’t really pick up a camera until 2022. Sure, I had owned plenty of cameras before, but it wasn’t until I pushed myself into the world of Leica that I began to see life differently. I started to understand the art behind a photograph. I began to freeze time in my images.

Call it curiosity. Call it creativity. Call it madness. It is something. There is no doubt our phones are capable of capturing beautiful images, but there is something about using a manual camera—about having to work for an image—that makes the result all the sweeter.

I have taken close to 20,000 images since 2022. Some are not so good. Some are pretty good. And some elicit such raw emotion that tears well up in my eyes. The camera captures life as it is; when coupled with words, it becomes a kind of time machine.

I have been writing for many years, at least one page per day—some days more. As with my photography, I prefer manual over digital.

I was once asked why I write. I write not only for the current version of me, but for the version that is yet to come. I write my story into the ether, my words and images forever captured in ones and zeros. They will survive far longer than anything I can build with my hands.

Perhaps this year’s writing and images will show a different side of me—the softer, more creative side, versus the focused savage who was hell-bent on proving to his ego that he was smart enough to build something.