The Best Man I Knew encapsulates images of my grandfather, fired onto porcelain. These are the few photos I have of him, taken through my lens and I have in my possession. He passed away last spring, becoming my newest ancestor. He was the last in our family to live and work on our family land in Enping, China. The last to touch and turn soil, to live by what the earth gave back from his careful tending. He taught me the beauty of quiet solitude and midnight noodles. I’ve been told I take the most after him. He was a farmer who wanted to be an academic, and here I am, an academic, wishing to be in the dirt all day. I grieve him with porcelain, a precious and strong material that radiates light. He was a light to everyone who knew him, the best man I knew.