To Shine as Brightly as Possible

Today is February 20th. I walked for about 30 minutes across a large park to the next town to get prescription lenses put into my sunglasses. I was wearing a yellow mountain parka, but it was so hot that I immediately took it off and hung it on my shoulder bag. It is the kind of weather that makes you sweat even in a thin, long-sleeved striped T-shirt. I put on my AirPods and walked while listening to music. A Japanese person was rapping in Japanese. By the time I reached the next town, a large amount of sweat was streaming down from my forehead.

For the past few days, my head has been hopelessly confused. I might never be able to recover from this shock. I even thought about that on the night before last with a drunken head. I am already 47 years old, and in the end, that is what getting older means.

It is too hot for February.

To be honest, I never thought I would turn 47. No matter how I think about it, I cannot believe it. If I could become 23 with my current experience and knowledge, how much would my possibilities expand? I might be able to land bigger jobs as a photographer than I do now. I might even be able to woo girls successfully. But, as I have said many times, I am 47, and no matter how things turn out, I cannot go back to being 23. It is cruel, but it is a matter of course.

I look up at the sky. It was forecast to rain, but it was dazzlingly blue. The park was bustling with many parents, children, and couples enjoying the warm weather.

I smoked a cigarette. It tasted bad, as always.

When you have been making a living taking photographs for 24 years, you inevitably notice a certain fact. The "past" and the "future" only exist within images. The only thing that exists is the "now." No matter how talented a photographer is, they cannot photograph the "past" or the "future."

My ten minutes ago and your ten minutes ago are different.
His ten minutes from now and her ten minutes from now are different. That is how it is.

However, people live their lives bound by a past and future that do not exist. They regret, they worry, and even though only the "now" should exist, they do not notice the "now." Perhaps they are desperately trying not to notice it.

Many people use the expression "capturing" when they take photos, but I press the camera's shutter button to "connect" the subject to the "now." I am connecting things that have fallen apart.

A cool rock star died.
The most famous photographer in Japan died.
A former colleague with a sharp tongue but a kind heart died.

How long will I be able to live? How many times will I be able to press the camera's shutter button?

There is something I must do.
To save as many suffering people as possible with my photographs.
Because I have suffered too. Because I am suffering.
It is something only I can do. That is what I believe.

Actually, for the past few days, I have been thinking about quitting photography and returning from Tokyo to my hometown in Gifu Prefecture.

"Tetsuya Hara, don't do anything lame." I can hear that girl's voice.

I gritted my teeth and decided to stay in this city.
Because I decided that this city is where I will make my dreams come true.
To shine as brightly as possible.

The cherry blossoms will bloom soon.
I have to go to the usual park to take some photos.