ALOHA mai,

ʻO Keisha Kanaka koʻu inoa. No Oʻahualua mai au.

I first picked up a camera in my middle school photography class. It was a Pentax film camera, and I learned how to photograph and manually process film. In an era where photos are “instant,” I feel fortunate to have started my journey with the challenge of a limited camera roll and the patience required for developing my art. This early foundation taught me to be deliberate in photographing moments and to appreciate the beauty of each portrait after the slow process of development. As time passed, I continued experimenting with photography, deepening my understanding and passion for the craft.

In 2021, I experienced the loss of a beloved member of our ‘ohana—our grandmother, our Oma. As the family photographer, I was entrusted with gathering photos for her memorial service. As we sifted through the images, we reminisced about our Oma—who was always cradling the youngest members of our family while managing to direct the older kids and ensure that our guests were well-fed. She found joy in cooking and listening to my Papa play his ‘ukulele. Although I cherished her formal portraits, I found myself wishing I had documented her in the smaller, everyday moments that truly embodied her essence—cooking, sharing stories, and being with ʻohana.

In following the path laid by my kūpuna, I am guided by moʻolelo and ʻāina. Just as the kāhuli (tree snails) were the voices of the forest, small yet resonant when gathered in numbers, my photography focuses on those seemingly small moments that hold significant emotional weight in our lives. My work centers on documenting Tūtū teaching their moʻopuna, the joy of ʻōpio, lāhui taking care of ʻāina together, and the other fleeting emotions we often overlook. I hope when my individual sessions are viewed collectively, they will present a rich and beautiful mosaic of our lāhui and the harmonious melody we can create when we use our collective leo.