Todd R. Forsgren

These images trace a line from falling in love, being in love, being a father, and falling out of love. Photography allowed me to spend my twenties wandering with my camera, basically alone (though with a rotating cast of amazing characters) exploring the world and “finding myself.” In my early 30’s I met Mika. Shortly after that, in the spring of 2013, I started making photographs of what we called “objects of unusual weight.” These “objects of unusual weight” developed into an odd sort of love poem.

These objects existed in a way that felt very improbable… Some of them were small, but seemed large. Others were heavy but seemed light. In their state between order and disorder, and how the camera rendered them, couldn’t tell if the objects were collapsing or coalescing, crumbling or merging, dispersing or fusing. They resist categorization, though perhaps they do have something in common with that most simple icon for love, the heart: ♥. Is it coming together or breaking apart? Contracting or releasing? At any one moment, it’s impossible to know.

This miracle of love and human experience occurs when two people come together to create a third person. And so, two-and-a-half years after Mika and I met, and a year after we were married, Sora was born. Eight years after that, Mika and I divorced, with considerable drama .

Being a husband is a now faded chapter in my life. Being a father is the honor of my life, and will always persist. This images taken for this series is when I was both, roughly spanning my thirties. It was certainly more structured than my twenties. The divorce has, however, sent me back into delightful uncertainty as I enter my forties. I feel in tune with the seasons and the passing of time. Of course, I’ll never be able to connect and represent these ideals perfectly.