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.