FLOATING WORLD
After 40 years of critical care nursing, my wife’s vision of a well-deserved retirement is kicking back on a cruise ship and being pampered. For years, I only picked up a camera when we went ashore at fascinating ports like Barcelona or Singapore. To me, the ships themselves were just a means to an end—too cluttered, too garish. But by 2015, I felt a growing desperation to find meaning in these floating worlds. I began wandering with my camera, capturing the passengers aboard and ashore, the hard-working crew, the specialized architecture, the outlandish decor, and the small, telling details that might go unnoticed.
The best part of making photographs is when I’m genuinely surprised by what emerges from the camera—when the Muses smile on me and add an unexpected touch of magic. That’s the lightning-in-a-bottle moment that fuels my work, and soon I began finding it in this modern incarnation of Japan’s Edo-period “Floating World,” where pleasure and distraction were the entire point.
As I delved deeper into this environment, I became fascinated by the tension between the dream and the reality—the blurred line between the mundane routines of daily life and the carefully curated fantasy of the cruise experience. Over time, the veneer of elegance and glamour began to wear thin, revealing the humor, irony, and humanity beneath.
At its core, cruising is about desire—our longing to be indulged, to feel blessed, and to capture a selfie. I see it as a metaphor for how many of us live in this age of distraction: perpetually seeking escape, yet never fully unplugging. As both an observer and a participant, drink in hand, I find myself questioning, seduced and conflicted—caught in the same currents I’m trying to document.
