Looking back on a photogenic year
I was reflecting on the end of my 35th trip around the sun last night, feeling quite discouraged and wondering what I had to show for the previous year (aware of what a first-world ass this makes me sound like, but I’m old now and this is my website). Then I opened Lightroom and started looking through the photos I’ve taken in the last 12 months. It’s a lot.
This was my year of photography. I bought a new camera and started taking pictures again. Because it’s something I love to do. I follow all types of wonderful photographers on Instagram (landscape/portrait/street/…) and they almost always stick to their specialty. Some even have separate accounts to post other types of photos. That’s fine, especially for those that make their living on photos, but my feed is me. It’s my life in pictures.
These pictures are what’s important to me. They capture something my brain can’t (and potentially have a longer shelf life).
The drive to work this morning was full of devastating stories of people who lost everything in the hurricane. It’s heartbreaking to hear someone describe what they’ve lost, but it made me wonder what I had to lose that can’t be replaced. There isn’t much. My mom always kept the photo albums by the door so she could save them quickly from a fire. Mine are backed up in triplicate on servers across the country.
These are my memories. No, there aren’t many portraits (not that I share anyway), but I can describe in detail what was going on behind the lens, who I was with, and what I was feeling when I pressed the shutter button. And they’re not always good memories, but I guess that makes for better pictures.
I hope I can keep this up, because if I can, 36 won’t be so bad.