There's a statue in downtown Columbus — a row of children, mid-play, caught forever in a moment of joy. Most people walk right past it. I stopped, because one face stopped me: a little girl, mouth open mid-laugh, eyes lit up, frozen in pure joy. This monochrome fine art photograph is the story of why I couldn't keep walking — and what a bronze kid taught me about being a man.
The Shot
I made the frame in black and white because color would have lied. Color would've told you it was bronze, a thing, a fixture you pass on the way to lunch. Stripped to light and shadow, it becomes something else — a face, alive, holding an expression no living child could hold still long enough for a camera to keep.
That's the whole reason I shoot monochrome. It cuts away the noise and leaves only the feeling. Light, shadow, and the thing that won't let you look away. Here, what won't let go is the joy. It's cemented in time the way the statue is — and that word, cemented, is exactly what's been on my mind.
What I Want to Be Before I'm a Father
One of the great privileges I haven't earned yet is being a father. I've thought about it since I was a kid myself. What kind of father am I going to be? The best one I'm capable of.
But before a father, a husband. And the man I want to be there is simple to name and hard to live: present, unshakable, loyal, faithful, generous, supportive. The one who shows up — not when it's convenient, but as a standing commitment. When the family is shaking with emotion, I want to be the one who holds them through it. The rock that keeps everything in place. That, to me, is the highest joy a life can hold.
You Are the Foundation — So Take Care of It
Here's the part nobody tells you. The foundation cracks if you only ever pour your weight onto everyone else. A family crumbles when the rock keeps bringing it his problems because they're meant to bring theirs to you. If you don't take care of yourself first, how can anyone trust you to carry their weight too?
So you take care of the foundation. Find the right people to talk your problems through with. Put yourself in positions you can build from. Stay in your health. And most of all, look in the mirror and face whoever's looking back — that's the daily work.
Two things keep me steady. First, crystallizing the commitment and never letting it blur —visualize it, carry it, refuse to forget it. Second, remembering where the real joy lives: the smiles on your family's faces, especially on the days they fight you and the whole thing feels heavy. Keep those smiles cemented in your mind the way this statue is cemented in time. You are the concrete. The rock. The foundation. Don't forget it.
Why It Belongs on Your Wall
That's why this image isn't just a photo of a statue — it's a reminder, shot to be lived with. Printed on acrylic, the monochrome depth goes liquid; the blacks fall away and that lit-up little face floats forward like it's still laughing in the room. It's the kind of piece that catches you on a hard morning and reminds you what you're holding the line for.
You can find “The Foundation” in the AFTXRLIFX Fine Art collection — hand-shot on a Leica, printed on acrylic glass, made to outlive the night. Every piece in the Fine Art collection is built this way: monochrome, intentional, a feeling you can hang. If you want the story of another frame and the man behind the camera, read the story behind “A True Vampire”.
Be the foundation. Take care of it. And keep every smile cemented where you can't lose it.