In the modern metropolis—the destination of dreams, migration, and reinvention—I look for moments that don’t resolve. People pass, lights shift, identities collide—but something else happens too. A gesture, a reflection, a glance that doesn’t quite make sense.

These aren’t decisive moments. They’re uncertain ones. Fragile, poetic. Charged with the feeling that something is becoming, even if we can’t say what.

This project is called Convergence, but it isn’t about harmony. It’s about the emotional weather of transformation—when cultures meet, when stories fold into each other, when memory leaks into the present.

As the son of Vietnamese refugees, I was raised inside the myth of multicultural America—a promised future that never quite arrived. These images ask what it feels like to live inside that myth now, with its frictions, dreams, and contradictions intact.

I’m not documenting diversity. I’m photographing the atmosphere of convergence—the surreal humor, the quiet tension, the mystery that lives between clarity and collapse.

These photographs are not statements. They are fragments of a deeper rhythm I’m learning to listen to. I don’t know if they hold answers. I only know they are real.

In a world rushing toward definition, I remain drawn to the spaces in between.

The world is not ending. It is becoming.

[View main gallery: Convergence: On Becoming →]