Through photography, I seek to lose myself in the world—and remain awake to it.
我用摄影，追寻清醒地沉醉于世界的方式。
What Am I?
What am I? Standing before the world as a photographer, I find that holding a camera does not make the question any easier to answer.
At first, it was the world of colour inside a Konica viewfinder that drew me in, and the anticipation of waiting for my photographs after the film had been developed. Later, I began to learn about exposure and light. I walked the streets and shared what I photographed with friends. Photography gradually became part of my life. Yet it also brought unease: were today’s photographs good enough? Was there anything left to photograph in places I knew so well? If I came home without an image I liked, had the day been wasted?
The more I thought this way, the more I measured the day by its results. I began to lose sight of why I had wanted to go out in the first place.
Then I returned to those familiar paths. I waited for the sunlight to fall, and watched the people around me carry on with their lives. Slowly, I understood that, before anything else, I am someone who lives within this world and can be moved by what unfolds before me. A camera allows me to record it; it does not place me outside it. What I can see of another person’s life will always be limited. But I can try to be honest about what I feel.
Perhaps what I can do as a photographer is look with care, and give a little time to moments that might otherwise pass unnoticed: a shaft of light, someone on their way home, a brief encounter. A photograph cannot explain the whole world for me. It can, however, hold something of what I felt when we met.
We call it photography; for me, it is a way of feeling and remembering.摄影一事，名为摄影，实为感悟与纪念。
This is why I want to keep making photographs. It is also one way I have come to understand myself.
What Am I Chasing?
So much in life competes for our attention: the constant stream of messages, endless temptations, other people’s lives and opinions. Sometimes I lose sight of what I truly love. Even when I go out with my camera, I may still be thinking about other people’s photographs, my own progress, and whether the day will yield anything worthwhile. The world is right here before me, yet I may not really be seeing it.
Perhaps we don’t need to figure everything out. Perhaps we simply need to wake up.也许我们并不需要弄清什么东西，我们需要的只是醒来。
For me, waking up means feeling that I am here, within it all: wind brushing against my body, tree shadows shifting with the light, someone passing along a familiar road. It means being willing to linger before ordinary things, to set aside comparison and judgement for a while, and to give my own feelings time to emerge.
I hope to keep a child’s clear curiosity, the devotion of someone who believes in beauty, a learner’s gratitude, an entrepreneur’s persistence, and an athlete’s confidence as I experience the world. These ways of being draw me deeper into what I love. They also remind me not to let the pursuit of results exhaust my capacity to love it.
Photography helps me practise this attention. Through the viewfinder, I slowly return my attention to the light, colour, and life before me. I know they are changing, and that I can preserve only a small part of them. Still, I am willing to wait for them, and to be astonished by them.
To lose myself in wonder, yet remain fully awake—perhaps that is the state of mind I hope to find.清醒地沉醉，也许就是我希望拥有的心境。
It is in these moments of stillness that I feel how much there is to cherish. The light moves, people leave, and this moment of meeting them will never return in quite the same way.
Sometimes I think about how many photographs we take, knowing that in the end we cannot carry even one of them with us when we leave this world. I worry that no one will remember I was here. I worry, too, that the world I loved and looked at so carefully may one day be forgotten.
Perhaps that is why I keep lifting my camera. I want to preserve the light that once fell on a place, the silhouette of someone passing through, and something of why I stopped for them. If someone sees these photographs one day, I hope they can feel this: someone was here, looking at the world in this way, and loving some of what they found within it deeply.
I do not know how long these photographs will survive, or whether those who come after me will cherish them. But I am willing to photograph, to organise, and to tell their stories with care—to give these memories a chance to be encountered.
There is nothing to do, nowhere to go. Once we accept this, we are free to go anywhere and do anything.无事可做，无处可去。接受之后，我们便可以去任何地方，做任何事。
We need not wait until we understand where life ultimately leads, or know whether our work will outlive us, before allowing ourselves to love and create. I still hope to leave something behind. But I am also willing to set down the burden of having to do so.
Photograph everything you love. After all, you love the act of photographing itself, don’t you?
