First published in The Study of Light, on Substack, on November 10, 2025
My camera, my work, my curiosity, take me to some interesting places.
In the past few years, I have sat with Mennonites, as they made religious music, for atheists.
I photographed folk dancers wearing Palestinian scarves, to sounds made by a klezmer band.
I watched Midwestern high school students strive to perform traditional Mexican dances in support of their friend who was celebrating her quinceañera.
I photographed dozens of residents in a very low income neighborhood, giving what was for most of them their first-ever experience of a formal studio portrait session, and was rewarded ten-fold with their gratitude.
I have supported dozens of couples on the biggest day of their lives, as they were married. They let me into their circle, and I was privileged to help tell their stories.
Six months ago I happened upon an Indian celebration — Holi (the festival of colors). I observed, I photographed, I danced, I jubilated, and then I cried, because I finally felt some relief and joy after a long, difficult spell.
All the while and every time, I think, “THIS IS THE WORLD I WANT TO LIVE IN.”
It was 10° at sunrise that morning, but Dave (dancing on the right), taught the students how to dance to stay warm. They're still dancing.
But I know that is wrong. More to the point: “THIS IS THE WORLD I LIVE IN.”
People of all kinds — the ages, races, religions, backgrounds, even classes — they come together. They celebrate. They become one, not in spite of their differences. If their differences meant that much, I don’t think they could do it. It would be like asking dogs and porcupines to drink beer together. Probably not going to happen. I have had good times with people who look just like me. But when I am with “diversity,” say, all those other varieties of humans, it somehow becomes more exciting.
A quinceañara is lovely. Being received as one of the family, in spite of my inability to communicate well, is astounding.
Witnessing Rama Nivami, the party marking the birth of Ram, with Hindus, is “interesting.” Dancing with strangers to the point of exhaustion (one of them, wearing a great smile, told me later that I was doing it all wrong, wearing the wrong color and making goofy movements, but it didn’t matter), is ecstasy-inducing.
To feel the power of the Ojibwé drum is humbling. To be called “brother” takes me down.
THIS IS THE WORLD WE LIVE IN.
Woman with an unforgettable kind face, in Fez, Morocco. I love that she actually slipped the camera a "gang sign." It didn't mean she was a member of the Crips or Bloods. It was a thing that people all over the world did. I take it to mean that she was a member of a gang called "Humanity."
I once traveled around the world, with extended stays on the West Coast, in Thailand, Malaysia, Indonesia, India, and London. Since I was going to be gone a year, I decided I wanted more than a vacation and sightseeing, and I turned my trip into a pilgrimage, a quest of a sort, to find God. To that end, everywhere I went, I asked people who or what they thought God was. With no expectations for what an answer should be, and with an emphasis on personal experience and belief, I recorded their answers.
That’s a long story, but I will tell you how it all boiled down:
About five percent of the people I spoke with were what I would call single-minded. A “fundamentalist” Muslim, a fist-pounding Christian, a 100% certain atheist. The people who felt like their way was the only way were actually uncommon. The vast majority expressed their beliefs, but in an open-minded, open-hearted way. It went something like this:
“I am Muslim, so I believe in Allah, and in his prophet Muhammed.” (Sumatran woman proceeds to explain her belief in the five Pillars of Islam, and finishes with this statement) “But what matters most is the love in your heart. If you have love and kindness, I believe that God will love you too, no matter your religion.”
My project was hardly a study. It wasn’t scientific nor comprehensive, it is my experience. But this is the world I live in. The majority of the people I have met approach one another with curiosity and openness. We enjoy talking about the things that are dear to us. Given the opportunity to come together, to enjoy one another’s food and music, we feast, and we jump up and dance. Ordinary human beings generally like each other.
THIS IS THE WORLD WE LIVE IN.
Buddhist monks in Osaka, praying for the deceased.