Mike Sakasegawa: All Good Things
Mike Sakasegawa first sat at my reviewing table at the Medium Festival of Photography four years ago. I was immediately drawn to his capture of family life and looked forward to seeing him each year as his project expanded and our friendship grew. As a father of three, Mike is a participant observer of family life, elevating the minutia of the every day into poignant tableaus that are at once ordinary and exceptional. Mike is about to open his first solo exhibition, In Detail, at the Wellfleet Preservation Hall. In Detail will feature images focusing on “the often-overlooked beauty and emotion in everyday life”, selected from four of his series: All Good Things, Sheets: A Love Letter, Caesura, and Auguries. The exhibition will open November 27 and will run through December 8 in Wellfleet, Massachusetts.
Michael Sakasegawa is a self-taught photographer and writer, occasional book artist, and full-time electrical engineer. Born in John Steinbeck’s hometown of Salinas, California, and growing up in the nearby towns of Carmel Valley and Big Sur, he now lives in San Diego with his wife and three children. His photographs have been included in group exhibitions at the Detroit Center for Contemporary Photography; the PhotoPlace Gallery in Middlebury, VT; and the Low Gallery in San Diego.
All Good Things
Some day I will die.
It’s a strange thought to dwell on at a time in my life when my children are so young. As, indeed, am I. And yet, since the birth of my oldest, I have never been more acutely aware of the passage of time.
Fatherhood came with its joys and its frustrations. The clench of my jaw at the twelfth tantrum of the day. The squeals of laughter from my kids when I sweep them up into my arms. I am immersed in emotion stronger than I would have imagined, but always, always, I return to the knowledge that this time will not last. I close my eyes and feel my breath moving in and out, as if simply concentrating will make the moment last longer. But time isn’t something you can tuck away in a drawer—whatever I might wish, life moves ahead, my children grow up, we all get older.
A photograph is not a moment or a memory, not really. But in the act of photographing I am forced to slow down, to see, to really pay attention. And though some day even the pictures will fade and lose their meanings, it’s somehow comforting to me that—for now, at least—there is some lasting testament to a time that may well turn out to be the best years of my life.
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