black and white photo of teapot on top of patterned plate with gemstone accompanying it on top of a fabric mat

The practices of tea and photography are two of the most meaningful things in my life. Separately, they're the biggest parts of my social and creative spaces, and together, they reach a place that's really special to me.

black and white photo of puer tea with dark object covering half the picture area, obscuring what is seen

I should say that both practices, for me, are deeply rooted in how I interact with and understand the world. They're artistic practices that bring me closer to the world I'm inhabiting. They're both based on rituals that allow me to observe, absorb, and appreciate what's around me. Even more so, they're tools that teach and allow me to learn.

When I talk about photography, I'm referring to the process of making images in a way that may seem more subtle, indirect, and artistic – a bit different from many of the images we interact with daily on social media or in advertisements. The images I make and am interested in are deliberately slow.

And When I talk about tea, I'm referring to a process that's similar - in my case, it's often gong fu cha, which is a deliberate way of making tea that requires some skill and patience. It yields something a lot different and much more sensory than a tiny tea bag could.

black and white photo of puer tea with light object covering half the picture area out of focus, obscuring what is seen

While seemingly quite different on the surface, I've grown to learn that tea and photography are actually pretty similar in many ways. They're both, at their cores, so much about time, space, and emotion. And for me, there's a strong correlation between light, nostalgia, and memory that dictate how we interact with and perceive both tea and photography.

These spaces, which I will get back to, inhabit a unique role within my life and transform my understanding of the world and my place within it. This intersection and interaction between tea and photography have slowly informed each of my separate practices, making both much more deliberate and purposeful.

black and white photo of teapot and teacup in shadow on wooden table, shadows of plants also visible

Photography, strangely enough, is what led me to tea... I was studying photography in Prague where I eventually wandered into a teahouse where I first learned to brew and fell in love with all things Chinese tea. The space tea brought me to was exactly what I was trying to get into, photographically and this is kind of when I realized that both practices had some powerful similarities. I spend a lot of time thinking about these spaces, inhabiting them, and experiencing them.

black and white photo of glass pitcher with steam rising from it on top of the teacup

One of my favorite things about the concept of Shizen – a Japanese term speaking to nature and human interpretation, interaction, and contribution to nature – is the notion of how humans transform, mimic, and deeply interact with parts of the natural world. To me, photography and tea touch this space and embody this concept of Shizen and human nature.

Both mediums express distinct and unique things about the person taking the photograph or brewing the tea, while also engaging with, altering, and interacting deeply with the person viewing the photograph or drinking the tea.

black and white photo of part of a tea pot on top of gravel ground with shadow cutting through the frame diagonally

They both inform, teach, and interact with each other in ways that create, explore, and question some of the deepest things in my life. While also continually connecting me to people, the threads slowly overlapping.

black and white photo of two cakes of puer tea on a cement wall connected by a wire

black and white photo of out of focus tea stove with charcoal in it

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about these spaces – how they operate on their own, and together. I think these spaces occupy a deeply human place, full of emotion, understanding, impermanence, and contemplation.

black and white photo of puer tea brick with bubble wrap on top of it

To me, tea is, in many ways, an homage to the beauty of nature. It seemingly honors this beauty, while trying to hold onto it – only to be brewed, briefly enjoyed, and exhausted. But this space – momentary and subtle – leads to a deeper understanding. The process of tea making and the brewing of tea transfers some sort of understanding or knowledge that many of us probably feel but can rarely speak to.

black and white photo of tea stove, teapot, and other tea accessories on cement and gravel

This is the same space I get to when photographing the world – the space I inhabit in between two photographs speaks to each other. Space where the mind really does its magic and makes sense of everything it's filtering in. Both tea and photography seem to be about capturing something that won't stay.

But within this transformation of the fleeting, much is held and seen. These ideas are things I think a lot about while making photographs and cups of tea and I think they bring me closer to a deeper understanding of myself and the world around me.