When I came to the United States, my initial introduction to the Western world was a picture, a bright flash, catching the first introduction to my mother, brother, and aunt. I have memories as a child, going through my grandfather’s cameras, some old fashioned and others high quality for the time. My grandfather communicated through his photography. He took pictures of the world around him and the people that make it up. Whenever I visit my grandparent’s home I become lost in the family’s photo albums, and while going through the albums; I often think how special they were; pictures of family members at beaches, weddings, and trips from Japan. They looked youthful, elegant, and mystical. From then on, I collected my albums. Starting with my first camera at age eight, I collected my brother’s birthday and grandparent’s Shabbat dinners. These pictures capture love in a single shot. I took pictures of my life and the world, saving them to my ‘photo app’. These photos offered me love when upset and comfort when I felt alone. When I look back at these albums, I can see my identity developing. Through trials and tribulations, bad haircuts, and horrible outfits- I’m slowly becoming the person I always wanted to be. As I’ve grown up, I have changed lenses, cameras, and lighting, all for the best shot for the upcoming album.