I’ve always wanted to find my thing. My singular passion, my sole purpose. I’m married to a man that has one of those things. I’m envious of people who have such a laser focus. But through life I have proven to be a dabbler, a generalist, a polymath. This is especially true of artistic pursuits- sculptor, paper flower maker, sewist, book binder, watercolorist, printmaker… I’ve imagined with each of these things that I had found it. And now? Photography!

So perhaps I feel like it’s disingenuous to tell you how I’ve been learning about photography since I was in grade school. That we had a dark room in our tiny apartment’s bathroom, and we played with contact sheets and loupes before we ever fully understood what they did. It’s true, but it feels like I’m selling you this story of a life’s ambition and knowledge culminating into this, which it definitely is not.

My mom has loved photography since I was little. She was a paparazzi of one for my siblings and me. She took photography classes all throughout my life, and to this day, there are few things she loves more than a reason to take some photos. So it was natural to grow up learning about apertures and shutter speeds and reading light meters. But I never really caught the bug myself. My sister did for a while, and her naturally artistic eye and quick grasp of concepts intimidated me. My brother went to school for photography and I thought for sure he 

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would settle into a career in it. And I was happy to just take a decent cell phone photo.

But then we planned a trip to Utah, and I decided to buy a mirrorless camera. It wasn’t love at first click, but I started to re-learn things that I had long since forgotten. I was terrified of Photoshop, but I was able to pick up some basic Lightroom skills. It was less a hobby at that point, and more of a utility. I moved up a notch from decent cell phone pics to decent “real camera” pics.

At some point I got a job in an art studio that works with children. I needed to take photos for social media, and I started to find a rhythm with shooting daily. I started to learn editing bit by bit. Figuring out why my photo had grain meant watching YouTube tutorials and learning more about my settings and the editing process. Eventually I started taking classes and shooting more and more. It all landed here.

So the romantic dreamer in me wants to say it was a long sought destiny. The cynic or realist in me wants to say it’s just another hobby that I’ll put down. But what if it’s neither? What if it just fills my heart today to take photos and share that joy, and that’s enough? What if somewhere between life-long-passion and flash-in-the-pan hobby is a sweet spot? I think it’s worth finding out.

me carrying too much shit, taking pics of my family