It was Japan Day last Saturday and everywhere were layers—fabric, color, gesture. Young people in costume moved through the crowd, posing, recording, sharing. The group in this photo caught my attention. They seemed absorbed in the moment of documenting themselves, holding the phone steady as if to freeze a version of who they were at that time.
There is a stage in life when questions around identity begin to take shape. Who am I? Where do I fit? One way to answer is by creating an outer version of the self—one that can be seen, responded to, and maybe even admired. Clothing, hair, accessories, posture—these become tools for shaping presence. It becomes a practice of building something that stands out while still trying to reflect something within.
This process of self-making doesn’t end with youth. Throughout life, we continue trying on different versions of ourselves—adapting, shifting, learning. But somewhere underneath all of that, the original self remains. It doesn’t compete for attention. It waits, unchanged, ready to be noticed again.
And as I write this, I too am looking for myself, the true self that is never really lost.