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Photography is an artistic expression, a voice of the photographer, and a message to be read. 


It is a piece of the photographer, of the soul and the spirit of him or her. It is a physical creation of the untouched, the fleeting, the unseen, and yet the real. It stems from the desire of mankind that to make things physical, sensible, touchable, and lasting; It stems from our fear of disappearing; our desire of remembrance, love, and embracement; and our honest confrontation of the inevitable, unchallengeable vulnerability— the truth. 


Photography, just like all art, is a magnificent battle, a frontal attack of which we have known the outcome and which we still lead off. It is an experience that we drown ourselves into, even though we may not see the victory. And it is just like life, the struggle we will never win, and still hold on to.


Art is a medium. The perfection of the art itself matters to me but the messages sent by the medium matter to others. So art becomes art when these two are reached in a balance. The works lie not only in the artwork itself but the echos this process makes with lives and human consciousness.


Photography doesn't need me; I need photography.


Is photography the truth? I do not know. For now I have only seen reflections of my reality. Yet, it is the medium that helps me live with my unchangeable limits. With it, life is bearable; and with it, I find freedom, within limit.


I make no sound; photography makes me a singer, though muted as we both are. I sing, to photography and to whomever it reaches, and if I get lucky, it sings back to me. For this moment, I present with all the honesty that can be given, for when I hear back I wish it comes with less lies, if miscommunication is inevitable.

This echoed sincerity. The sun-like void. Altogether they make up the tugging forces of my existence. And within this confrontation, I live.

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