Some Pain, Some Anger, and Some Compassion

I have no photographs to share with you today.

Today, I’m going to share some sadness, some pain, and some anger.

And then, surprisingly, some compassion.

I know there is more than enough of the first three in the world right now, unfortunately, and not nearly enough of the latter.

If you don’t want any more of them — and I very much understand if you don’t — please stop reading now and go elsewhere.

A few days ago I was doing research at an e-commerce site for my print shop, which regular readers will know I opened a little over half a year ago here on Squarespace. I began opening a second store at this e-commerce site just before the pandemic started, so I haven’t announced it yet.

On this e-commerce site I discovered paintings made of two of my favorite images. These paintings were for sale, and for quite a lot of money.

I have never given the person who made these paintings permission to use my work and put his name on them.

He took my work and pretended it was his own. And was selling it.

I felt like I had been sucker-punched in the stomach, twice, suddenly and brutally.

I felt like it was me that had been stolen.

It hurt. A lot.

I still have a lot of questions, and very few answers.

I have a lot of questions for the person who did this, who I have contacted, and who has not responded. The paintings have been removed because they violated the e-commerce site’s intellectual property policy. I believe one of them was sold before it was removed, but I am still waiting for confirmation of that.

I will save my thoughts on the person who did this for another time.

Today I want to explore my own feelings. Why was I so upset? Why was I so hurt and angry? Why was this bothering me so much, so much that I have woken up two of the past three nights and not been able to get back to sleep?

At first I thought about all the time and hard work I have put in, in many different areas. Standing on the streets of Gion and Miyagawa-cho for hours almost twenty years ago, just hoping that a geiko or maiko would pass by and stop to pose for me for a moment.

Practicing my lighting on friends and family members and even mannequins, trying to get better. Spending a lot of money on classes, both online and off. Spending even more money on the modelling fees for the women I photograph.

Trying to understand the unwritten rules and customs of the hanamachi, first by observance and then by having the geiko, maiko, and ochaya-san patiently teaching them to me themselves because they could see I was sincere and really wanted to learn.

Asking questions of some and being told over and over again, “No, you can’t. No, you can’t.” Ignoring these responses and going ahead anyway.

Getting people to trust me, not through words, but by my actions, which takes time, and not just weeks and months. Years.

I could go on. But you know what?

I don’t feel so sad, hurt, or angry anymore.

I feel blessed.

I know what all these experience feel like, the good and the bad, the hard and the easy, the fun and the laughter-filled. The frustrating ones, too.

When you look at one of my photographs, you can see all of these things, if you know how to look.

These things are in me, they make me who I am, and they make my photographs look the way they do.

They cannot be duplicated by anyone else, not that anyone should want to. You should try to be you, not me.

I am fortunate in that I know how to be me, after years of trying!

I know what it feels like to sit across from a tayū and have her play the koto, only for me.

I have experienced the shy pride and happiness some maiko feel at being photographed for the first time ever in a one-to-one situation.

No one can copy these things. And if you, too, are lucky enough to have similar experiences and even better, wonderful for you! Communicate those feelings and experiences to others through your words, pictures, sounds, or whatever medium suits you.

That is being creative. That is making art.

I feel compassion for someone who has so few experiences of their own that they have to copy someone else’s and pass them off as their “original” work.

You have hurt me, but you are hurting yourself more.

Stop it.

No amount of money can be worth that.