Everything is energy—light, movement, even the essence of a place. Photography, at its core, is about harnessing light, freezing fleeting moments into something we can hold onto. But what if it could go deeper? What if, instead of just documenting, we could capture the energy itself—the pulse of a space, the feeling of a moment, the unseen forces at play?
Lately, I’ve been experimenting with motion and light painting, not just as a technique but as a way to tune into the spirit of a place. By letting the camera move with me, I’m starting to capture something I’ve always felt but wasn’t sure how to translate into an image—traces of energy, rhythms of light. Some images hum with a pulse, a vibration just beneath the surface. Others feel like portals, bending time and movement into something surreal, something more than just what the eye can see.
The process itself feels like a kind of meditation. Instead of trying to control the light, I let it guide me. I let energy reveal itself. And in that space, photography becomes more than a tool—it becomes a conversation, a way of communing with the forces that shape our reality.
About this image: Electric Flow
Nagoya, Japan; Summer 2024
Nagoya hums with life—neon veins pulsing, energy currents surging through its streets. In this image, the city isn’t just seen; it’s felt. The rhythm of movement, the vibrations of light, the tangled web of motion all merge into a singular flow, a current both chaotic and harmonious.
Each image in this series is created through a kind of dance—an intuitive movement with the camera, responding to the energy of the space. Rather than simply documenting a scene, I let myself move with it, allowing the city’s pulse to guide my hand. In Electric Flow, the camera and I become part of the current, translating the city’s unique signature into light and motion.
Part of my ongoing exploration of Temporal Harmonies, this image embodies urban energy not as a static place, but as a living force. The long exposure and intentional movement dissolve the boundary between the physical and the ephemeral, revealing not just place, but presence. Time doesn’t stand still—it dances.
In Electric Flow, Nagoya’s heartbeat becomes visible, an invitation to feel the rhythm of the city, to immerse in the neon-lit song of the moment.