All sorts of unusual behavior have been observed in animals in captivity. There’s the story of Ayveq, a walrus at the New York Aquarium, who became famous among visitors for his tendency for constant, compulsive masturbation. Ayveq's story is not unique, nor is it an isolated event; similar behavior has been observed in many different species and zoos all over the world. Evidence shows that animals rarely engage in such behavior in the wild, and do so as a soothing mechanism to cope with captivity.

When the pandemic began and the world went on lockdown in 2020, we all experienced a form of collective captivity. Contact with others was actively discouraged (or, in some cases, outright prohibited), and we were all asked to do our part and stay home. As a photographer who normally works with models on location, this meant that one of my favorite creative outlets was effectively no longer possible. Scared, frustrated, and bored, like a monkey in a cage, I pointed the camera at my penis.

I suppose the impulse that led me to photograph my penis is the same that led the Neanderthals to paint theirs in cave walls long ago. It’s a way of affirming life, of leaving a testament of one’s passing through this world (after all, in a moment this frail and uncertain, how many other chances would there be to do so?). This was my way of carving my initials on a tree, of leaving a signed padlock on a bridge, of making a print of my hands in the drying cement.

I could have kept these images on my phone, but then, who would have known that "I was here"?