O / 01
Before I Knew
His Name
ON CURIOSITY, BELIEF AND AN OBJECT
I DIDN’T YET UNDERSTAND
I didn’t know who this figure was when I first saw it. I wasn’t looking for anything in particular—just wandering through a small Indian-owned shop I’d found by accident in New York. The shelves were crowded, almost chaotic, but this wooden figure held my attention in a way I still can’t fully explain. It felt calm. Familiar. Almost like it was waiting.
At home now, it sits by the window where the light is soft. I notice the details more in this quiet—the small curves, the slight unevenness in the wood, the way the shadows fall into the carved lines. You can feel the hand of its maker in it. Not perfect. Human. Steady. The grain of the wood shows through in a way that makes every part slightly different. I never thought about hand-carving traditions before, but holding this piece, it’s clear how much time and care went into it. It feels like something made with intention.
It reminds me of those early years in New York, when the city felt like an endless lesson in other cultures. I’d step into shops and hear languages I didn’t recognize, see objects connected to beliefs I didn’t grow up with. Everything felt new, and I was trying to make sense of myself in the middle of all of it. I wrote once:
“This city teaches you who you’re not, and then who you might become.”
NEW YORK, 2003
Maybe that’s why this Ganesh stayed with me. Growing up in a religious household, I learned one way of seeing the world. But in New York, I started to see many. Since then, I’ve been drawn to places with strong spiritual roots—not out of devotion, but out of curiosity, and a need to understand what people hold sacred.
This little carving feels like the start of that shift. A small reminder that belief can be personal, quiet, and shaped slowly—just like the lines in the wood.
OBJECT: HAND-CARVED GANESH SCULPTURE
MAKER: UNKNOWN ARTISAN
MATERIALS: SOLID WOOD
FOUND: NEW YORK CITY MID 1990s
PHOTOGRAPHY: TAKAHIRO IGARASHI