Despite evidence to the contrary, I am actually fine describing or talking about myself.  Though I continue to spend the best years of my life working in a cubicle, I am alive and more fulfilled while out exploring with my camera sometimes in tow.

The first exposure I had of photography was on my dad taking photographs, either of my mom and I or wherever we were vacationing.  Those photographs eventually made it into meticulous noted photo albums, which still exist!  He certain has a passion for photography, but never took the craft beyond family and vacation snapshots.  Strangely, I was always intimidated by the SLR camera my dad used.  Even when he gifted me his old SLR, it sat in my closet for years unused.

Years later I picked up a Nikon dSLR on clearance and it more or less sat unused for a long time.  Now looking back, years of potential photographs were never taken.  Years where life wasn’t as busy and taking days off to travel wasn’t as much of a problem.

So why have I subtitled this blog a “journey from picture taker to photographer”?  Once upon a time a close (and honest) friend accurately assessed I had “one good photo” out of the 50+ plus I had casually taken at a wedding dinner.  This blog traces the path from  when my dad gave a joking, lukewarm response to the first photo I had win anything, to now.

I’ll always be a picture taker, but more and more people are calling me a photographer, even if I feel strange calling myself one.


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