Why photography

Sometimes my camera gives me a sense of purpose. I’m so shy that I feel awkward in crowds and I’m usually terrible at initiating or maintaining conversation. The camera, however, gives me something to focus on, and sometimes even a reason for being where I am. (Once I get past my initial self-consciousness that is.) I think it’s pretty easy to tell that I am far more comfortable behind the camera than in front of it though.

With the death of a friend in the summer of 2000, I learned the importance of “capturing the moment”. The search for a suitable photo for his funeral met with limited success, and I realized that my timid nature had resulted in missed opportunities that could never be recovered. I decided right then and there that I would take photos whenever I wanted to, and if someone didn’t want to be in the picture they could speak up and say so. And to my surprise, I’ve encountered very little objection.

When it comes to people, I prefer candid shots to posed; therefore my albums are littered with random photos of odd and interesting facial expressions, along with some truly priceless moments. Sometimes the element of surprise brings out the best in people, and you get insight into what they’re really feeling or thinking.

For a long time I wanted to experiment with what I considered “artsy” stuff, but again, lacked the confidence to try. My friend Trevor, whose photography I’ve always admired, used to tell me that I had “an eye” for great photos. It was a long time before I really believed him. I’ve started playing around a little more with my camera though, twirling buttons and aiming at whatever strikes my fancy, and more often than not I’m pleasantly surprised with the results.