The Hope In That Things Do Fall Apart

Life is hard. We're surrounded everyday by stories of people whose lives have fallen apart. I've worked at mission houses hearing stories of men who owned homes, had families, and at one point in there life thought they had life by the tail with dreams and plans to come out on top, but somehow things didn't go as they planned.

My short life I can look back at the plans that I've had that have already changed. Most of them haven't been for the worse, but I can see that I had little control over much of what my life has been.

I've been asking more and more questions about my own family, curious to see how they ended up where they find themselves today. None of them admit to having things go as they planned. This can seem depressing looking at it with a certain angle, but I see hope in it. It's okay for things to fall apart; for plans to end up like and unraveled rope leaving only threads. I've lost money, had things stolen, but my day to day life remains the same. I get a cup of coffee in the morning, and at least a meal in the day, rest at night.

My future I look at different now. I no longer, or should I say, attempt not to strong arm life, leaving fists of white knuckles. I'll ride the bull, as they say in rafting. Sit on the front, hold on for dear life, and let the river take me. In end everyone gets wet, but there's always a sun to dry me out.

The Move To Watch:
House of D

Origin, Roots, and Discovery

Jon From China

Taking a look at that title, those are some powerful words not used everyday, possibly monthly. I stayed up last night, as I usually do, not fighting sleep as I must force myself to lay my head down and close my eyes, but watching t.v. Scanning the guide, I saw it there again, Independent Lens. Catching my interest with such a title of The Cats of Mirikitani I knew that I could get something from this one.

Jimmy Mirikitani is followed by a camera, revealing his life journey. He's an 81 year old man, formerly homeless, and a beautiful artist, mixing the style of the orient with artisans of the west. As all the homeless have, story is told. Jimmy was just a youth during the time of WWII; born in Sacramento, and grew up in Hiroshima. I'm sure you can see where this going, as all these words fit as puzzle pieces.

February 19, 1942 the American Government issued Executive Order 9066, stripping the constitutional rights of nearly two thirds of Americans born of Japanese descent. Deprived of his possessions, and separated from his family members, Jimmy was deemed and "Alien Enemy" and placed in an Internment Camp. There in the desert he witnessed the death of his people, and said his last goodbye to his sister, his last living sibling.

The story picks up as Jimmy is 80 years old, and after the 9/11 is taken in by a film maker who decided to uncover the story of this artist.

My family was spared these camps due to the fact that they lived in Hawaii where Japanese made 1/3 of the population proving too much to transport, and a detrimental hit to the economy. The story struck, though, as in the past few years I have been researching my roots, both Japanese and Lakota Sioux Indian. More and more I have been on a path to discovering the culture of the two, and falling in love with them, identifying with them.

I hope to believe that I will somehow use photography to open up the eyes and minds of people to things that can be captured by a single frame; creating a story, and weaving a message with them. Life seems to be a box that I keep pulling things out of without a sight of the bottom, and I hope the facet of areas that I am learning, all will will be stitched together to see a pattern and a solution to the questions that I have.

For Reference

http://www.thecatsofmirikitani.com/

http://www.tulelake.org/