Photography Notes

Through ten “Look · See · Wind” videos, I followed the changing clouds, water, leaves, and grass, letting the invisible wind reveal itself through the world—and learning, through sustained observation, what it means to truly see the everyday.

Looking back at twenty years of tree shadows, man-made geometries, and human silhouettes, I trace the movement of light through time and reflect on order, freedom, and the daily practice of seeing.

A midsummer day on Hong Kong’s streets, observing porters in the heat, open-air food stalls, workers resting in back alleys, and people of different classes and ethnicities—a brief glimpse of everyday city life.

By running and taking photographs around a five-hundred-metre pond near home, I discovered endless variation in seemingly familiar trees, weather, and light—and the rewards of returning to the same place over time.

Beginning with a bicycle outside a café in Busan, I look back through years of photographs taken in different countries, observing how a means of transport can become decoration, recreation, and a symbol of urban culture.

Mirrors, signs, decorations, and self-portraits photographed in restrooms during years of travel come together here, linking the visual quirks of different cities through one of life’s most ordinary—and most private—spaces.

Hemmed in by glaring lights and a floor-standing speaker while photographing the dance drama My Mulan, I switched to a vertical frame and focused on the soloists—a spur-of-the-moment adjustment that showed me how even within tight constraints, a little space can still be made.

After missing the autumn leaves in the woods, I went looking for vivid colour in a hotel, Halloween decorations, and the town of Orillia—turning a rain-soaked disappointment into a journey through a man-made autumn.

Across the Greater Toronto Area, I photographed children’s playgrounds cordoned off with yellow tape—their bright, deserted structures recording how abruptly the pandemic drained neighbourhoods of their usual noise and joy.

A search for roadside memorials of flowers, crosses, and white bicycles in Canada—and, amid the deserted streets of the pandemic, a reflection on accidents, remembrance, and the fragility of life.