Izumi Tanaka Retrospective
I was born and raised by the sea.
Although the sea across the street was transformed into a heavy industry district during the industrialization of post-war Japan before I was school age, the sea is ingrained in my being.
My father, who endowed me with the love of photography, was an avid hiker and used to take us camping in the nearby mountains, Tanzawa. I grew to love the mountains. The smell of the trees and the sound of the wind passing through them in the forest always offer the sense of awe and comfort. My father passed away almost 20 years ago. When his ashes came back to the family after his remain was donated for medical research, I took a small portion back to Tanzawa to sprinkle them in the forest. It was early spring when different shades of pink blossoms decorated the hillside, which I know certainly made him happy in Heaven.
I moved to the U.S. as a young student almost 40 years ago and settled near the beaches of Southern California. I go to the sea to listen to the waves and contemplate on life. Knowing this Pacific Ocean connects me to my homeland gives me comfort.
Now I have had a house in the mountains for almost 15 years where I have been sheltering in place during the pandemic. There I go to the woods nearby to listen to the same whispers as I did as a child remembering how Dad used to say, “Listen, the trees are laughing.”
Both at the sea and in the forest, I hear the Spirit telling me “I got you, kid” no matter what’s going on in my life. These are my places of refuge, space for intimate contact with something much bigger, reminding me that I am only a tiny part of this world called the Earth.
