Story

When I was a primary school kid, everyday after school, I would rush to the attic of my dad’s architecture firm, and immerse myself in drawing, often with my elder brother Lawrence.

When we got deeply into our visual creations, I’d noticed something very interesting. I’d get so absorbed, I felt I was at one with the art itself. I enjoyed drawing Dragon Ball Z, and I felt the characters on paper coming to life. I felt lightly suspended, time stretched, space distorted. This tunnel vision and experiences was deeply engraved in my mind. Most magically, the drawings seem to appeared on the paper by itself. I was merely holding the pencil.

We’d spend much time immersed in this bliss, until my mother’s voice from downstairs this dreamlike state “guys, time for dinner!”

As a teenager growing up in Vancouver Canada, I cherished those experiences as nothing short of magical, as I didn’t experienced anything quite like it during that time period.

Intuitively, I understood those were important moments in life. I felt so alive. Between the busy rush of school and extracurricular activities, I downplayed those experiences as “I was just a kid and that’s what kids do, they have fun”.

What I didn’t understand until much later was that, actually growing up, I forgot how to “be a kid”. Forgot how to see the world, without the limitations and human constructs that I’ve been conditioned and filters I’ve picked up along the way.

Fast forward to my first summer at McGill University as a business school student, I intuitively picked up my first camera out of the frustration of my dissatisfaction with my side hustle as a student entrepreneur that summer.

On the very first day I got the camera, I went out for a spontaneous photo walk on the streets of Old Montreal. Without any expectations, I started observing, clicking way, learning how to operate the camera.

Interestingly and with immense satisfaction, this photo-walk threw me into the same feeling I had drawing during childhood.

That same feeling I knew was important, but haven’t felt since.

I let out all of my energy on photography that summer. I was hooked.

I decided to follow my intuition and moved to London UK to pursue photography professionally soon after graduation from McGill.

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17 years into my professional photography career, the process of visual creation is deeply integrated and intertwined with how I live. The appreciation and passion for creative arts is even more pronounced.

Photography consistently and reliably bring me into the state of joy, contentment, and peace.

After becoming fluent with the technicals, it became clear that operating the camera is only a tiny part in the practice of photography.

Photography is the practice of seeing, thinking, feeling, and most importantly, a practice of being.

The more I practiced, the more I felt a connection to earth and the world community. The more I practiced creating, the more creativity there was to be used. The deeper I went along with the flow of life, the more adept I became at accessing that steady, peaceful flow. Photography to me is a practice of internal and external alignment, and when in alignment, decisive moments come intuitively. It’s a very blissful way to integrate life and work.

By accident, my original commitment to become “technically good” at photography, kicked off a positive cycle of internal and external observation, and creating to share that perspective back to the world.

This practice of photography and visual arts, is my attempt to capture a frame of the consciousness I am grateful to experience.

Hope to continually share this process as an artist, and continually to expand and collaborate with the the universe.

— 2025 May 5