a life of photos

i used to love taking photos. i did it to remember my life. i did it for no other reason. i simply wanted to capture the moments that were happening around me. i'd use my moms old film camera, nothing special. just click, keep clicking until the roll was done, drop it off, wait anxiously and then pick up the images and laugh with my friends. thats all it was. i took photos of so many things. 

i became immersed in a quickly advancing photographic world. started to "model", to see if i could actually do it. to see if my own face would get attention. somehow it did, or maybe it was something else. i don't know. i quickly learned how to be in front of the camera. i leaned my angles. 

a time came when i was the subject of most of my boyfriends images, he was always testing things out, doing cool experiments and we would have so much fun. light painting, making our own wide angles, using whatever we had to create a curious result. jumping around, throwing things, night time, capturing everyday life. it was so basic and fun. we always had fun. the images he would get of me, they were so raw and regular. we always had a camera. 

we moved on from each other. i somehow stumbled upon an assistant job. a photographers assistant. i quickly learned lighting and positions. i absorbed everything she told me, taught me and showed me. i tried my hardest to make all the information make sense. i played around with her equipment when she let me. i learned to see things the way she did. i admired her outcome and result. the images she takes still floor me whenever i see them. 

i finally got my own camera. a nikon d300s. with a 50mm l.4 - it was the most fun i'd had with a camera. i experimented on everything, i had no idea what i was doing. the math of a camera has always evaded my understanding. i just kept pressing buttons and memorizing strange numbers. i played with light more than i had ever before. i tested what i could create with my friends. i took photos of nearly everything. 

then, i found myself quickly in love. with a guy who made a living taking photos. master of editing. master of perfecting images. i was rarely in front of his lens, from what i can remember. here and there, maybe. or maybe i just erased those memories. we weren't creative. there was nothing to play with, experiments never happened. i didn't need my camera, it seemed. i sold it. i didn't take a photo for years. i didn't miss it. i didn't care. 

i picked it back up lightly when i got my first iPhone. i started to play again. to see what i forgot to look at. the things i saw that i could share. i realized how much i see, how many places i go, how many people i know. i'm not the best, i don't know what i am doing. i never know if people who talk to me, or now know me know me because of my photos or because of my character. is it me? or is it what i produce? i have no idea how to figure that out. sometimes, they go hand in hand. so many of the new friends i've made over the past 3 years have been because of their photos. their photos are SO good that i simply NEED to know them. i want to be around their energy and breath in their atmosphere. i often wonder how they come up with the things they do. how they hook others. 

i bought another camera. a nikon d700. a full frame. with the stock lens. that stock lens really makes me writhe. i should feel glad that i even have a lens. but... i want an 85mm 1.4 so bad. i keep holding onto the idea that maybe if i had it, i would use my camera more. i don't have the funds to even consider getting one. i see others using their cameras and love what they produce. yet, i don't use mine. i hate that i can't let myself have fun with it anymore. how do i just start having fun again? who knew it would be so hard.