Travel
Sukhumvit Zoom | Travel Photography
After spending a month on the road I was ready to be back in Japan. In the past weeks, I had tromped through Malaysia, Thailand, and Ethiopia. While I enjoy most aspects of life as a travel photographer, I missed my wife, my son, and my pillow terribly. I wanted to back in Tokyo, to be home. But a 32-hour commute between Addis Ababa and the Japanese capital seemed downright terrible so I forced a layover in Bangkok, Thailand.
It would have been easier to stay near the airport, chuck my rucksack down and have a big sleep. The relatively subdued area near Don Mueang International would have been perfect for that slumber. But for my last night of the trip, I wanted to be downtown, in the middle of the Bangkok buzz.
I like staying in downtown Bangkok where everything I could want or need can be found within blocks, accessible at any time of day or night. As a photographer based in Tokyo, I live a relatively suburban life (Tokyo is perceived to be a city that never sleeps but nothing could be further from the truth) and staying in a full-blown urban environment is a novelty that I enjoy from time to time.
It was already well into the evening by the time I got downtown. I plopped my bags on the floor of my modest hotel room and lay on the bed to take a deep breath. I thought about what I could do with the last hours of the trip. I could head to Sukhumvit Soi 3 (Soi Arab) and pick up some great falafel and check out what new souvenirs were on the road (anything from Zippo lighters adorned with the image of Saddam Hussein to pirated CDs of the latest middle-eastern pop songs). I could grab a tuk-tuk to Chinatown and get some street curry at Jek Pui. Perhaps gaze at the skyline from the Moon Bar at the Banyan Tree.
I just lay there in that comfy ass bed musing. I couldn’t seem to pull myself out of the hotel room and into the Bangkok night. As much as I wanted to engage in a seemingly infinite list of entertainment options, I couldn’t be bothered. I was simply exhausted.
But I was there… in Bangkok.
After an hour or two, I managed to get off of the bed, grabbed my camera, and walked out to get a bit to eat. I settled on Indulge, one of my favorite restaurants that is tucked next to one of the busiest intersections on Sukhumvit (the chili pork belly is amazing). After my meal, I decided to head to a nearby overpass adjacent to Asok BTS station for a view of the clogged intersection below.
I made a few frames and then just stood there watching the streets. The zoom was mesmerizing. Motorbikes, cars, trucks, tuk-tuks, people. Everything going everywhere.
The movement reminded me of the past year or so. As a professional photographer. my life has seemed to move in a hundred directions and, like the photographs I had just made, my movements were blurry and defined by the stop-and-go, bursts of speed and stillness.
For a couple of years now, I have managed to make it to the destinations assigned. I have made all of the images required. After the photos are submitted and the invoices are sent, I find myself at a metaphorical intersection where I attempt to quickly collect myself before zooming off in a new direction. But the “downtime,” still filled with an endless list of tasks, is never enough to fully recharge. The red light doesn’t stay illuminated long enough for me to truly feel ready to hit the gas again.
Don’t get me wrong. I love the zoom. Life as a photographer is largely an adrenaline rush and the job of my dreams. Yet, more and more, I appreciate the intersections, the still places where a red light binds me to the things that are actually my life’s most important.
After watching the Sukhumvit traffic blasts, I made my way back to my hotel and curled up in the pile of pillows that was so difficult to leave in the first place. I lay there waiting for the green-light-clock to signal another blast. But, this time I would be zooming to my home, to my wife and son, the intersection that holds me still and provides a haven from the zoom.
More On the Blog
Shirakawago, Japan | 2019
Bangkok, Thailand | 2019
Tokyo Photo Journal #4
Summer Snapshots 2019
For the past several years, my family and I have had a groundhog-day-summer. At this point, I don’t really have to think much about where we are going for the holidays. The schedule goes something like this: Tokyo to St. Louis to Asheville to Toronto (well, Brampton) and then back to Tokyo.
Some summers we might make a slight deviation from our usual schedule. This year, we spent a few days in Chicago to catch up with some good friends and lazed a week away at Myrtle Beach, South Carolina (I hadn’t been in twenty years). My wife and I had our first weekend alone as a couple without our son (we had a staycation in Asheville and enjoyed our mountain home) and even managed to spend a night in Durham, North Carolina to see Ali Wong (I love a crass, liberal comic).
Summertime is downtime. June and July are reserved for relaxing together, to do a bunch of nothing which, in reality, means that we are doing everything. My family gets quality time together. We hit the pool, play in creeks, and eat a lot of good food (I gained 11kg this summer thanks to southern breakfast plates and as many BBQ ribs as I could pop into my mouth). We watch the fireflies in the yard at dusk and lay in the hammock for as long as we can. Most importantly, we spend time with the people we love the most but who live furthest away, the tribe that has been by our side for as long as we can remember.
Another pleasure of summertime is that I take a break from professional photography. With few exceptions, I rarely take editorial, commercial, or portrait commissions when I visit North America. The time is somewhat sacred. Our annual North American journey is a mini-sabbatical. The summer grants me the opportunity to rest my eyes from the hours upon hours of editing required from a pro photographer. The break gives my arms and back respite from the strain of my photography kit. The summer holiday provides me the mental space to reflect on what I want to do (and not do) in the season that will inevitably kick off as soon as we return to Japan.
But just because I take an eight-week break from constant shooting doesn’t mean that I don’t pull out the camera every now and then on vacation. Instead of commissions, I get to turn my camera to the thing I love the most; my family. I also get the opportunity to point the camera at anything I damn well choose without the pressure of producing quality work under deadline or creative constraint.
The images below are a small collection of the snapshots I took this past summer. These shots aren’t groundbreaking or magazine-worthy. These pictures weren’t shot for any purpose other than to simply click the shutter for the love of it. These snapshots serve as souvenirs from the summer of 2019 and are a reminder of a time when life was simple, easy, and full of joy.
Central Vietnam In Color
A few days ago I posted a collection of monochrome images. Today I am sharing a saturated compliment to that collection. Just like the black and white series, these colorful images were made between Hoi An and Hue this past June during Pics of Asia's Central Vietnam photo tour.
I really enjoyed culling the images for this collection. Through the process, I had some personal realizations about who I am as a photographer. I am eager to share some of those thoughts soon. Stay tuned.
Hiroshima Today | Travel Photographer In Japan
Hiroshima, Japan
In the past hundred years, the world has witnessed unthinkable atrocities: 9-11, the Syrian Civil War, Rwandan and Armenian genocides, the Holocaust, the reign of the Taliban, Vietnam War, the rise of ISIS. The list continues to stretch like a slinky but doesn't retract.
Modern history is marred by turbulent circumstances and we associate historical timelines with devastating events. Why is it that I can easily spew out dates of wars but would be hard-pressed to share specific dates of significant societal progress? Why do I know that two atomic bombs were dropped in 1945 but can't recall what year Ruby Bridges turned segregation upside-down by simply walking into a school?
These are my thoughts as I walk around Hiroshima, Japan. Most of us will likely be able to report the significance of the Japanese city's name. It was here, on these grounds that the world witnessed one of its greatest atrocities. But only associating Hiroshima with a single, catastrophic day is limiting. It is unfair. Solely associating Hiroshima with an atomic event would be similar to thinking that New York City's only significance is 9-11.
Like people, places are more than their name. Like us, places evolve and change and we must realize that, while the belt of the past is notched by events, those markers do little in representing the present.
Spending just a couple of days in Hiroshima has helped me realize how ignorant I can be. While it is understandable to associate Hiroshima with an event, it is feeble minded to ignore the city's larger story. It is necessary to go past our associations and preconceptions and see a place for what it is now, in the present, and to daydream about its potential for the future.
