Papi: portraits of my father

The word papi is Spanish for daddy. I am presently working on a series of portrait photographs depicting my remnant memories of my father. Coming from a divorced set of parents, I learned to love my step-father and only use the adjective to describe him as to differentiate from my birth father. Over the course of my childhood and young adult life, I made special memories of which I treasure dearly of my beloved father. These memories are only a handful compared to what a lifetime, however short, could have been. I spent the majority of my childhood looking for my father. While we found each other many times, for reasons I will never understand, I will consequentially keep looking for my father. It is most likely that my father succumbed to death. I will probably never know who took my father’s life, or why. There is no place for me to mourn him; I continue to cling to the few memories of him that I have.

My current project is a photo essay on portraits of my father. I don’t have many photographs of him. I am looking to photograph men who remind me of my father…

His smile,

His eyes,

His hands,

His chuckle,

His hat,

His boots,

His nature,

Him - a man no longer here who is forever on my mind.

A man, whose piece of heart, I have.

I miss you, Papi.