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Photography and Me

January 2023 was a bad month.

Life felt splintered, like a smashed pane. I was unhappy. Stressed. Couldn’t tell you why.

The worst of it?

I wasn’t enjoying my photography. How could that be? Photography defines me. Always has. I’m fine with that.

But there’s a story. Personal. Awkward. Best not to wade too deep. I needed help. Not for the body. For the mind.

I got it—or started to. And I learned something. When I say I’m a photographer, it’s not just a title. It’s what I am. It’s what I do because it feeds me. The creativity. The freedom. Reading the light. Catching the moment. Seeing what I’ve made.

No doubt about it, I lean on photography. It’s how I set myself free. How I speak. I’d been lost. A soul adrift, without a rudder. But then I found the process again.

My life became the pictures I shot. Once more, it felt right. Like breathing clean air after a storm.

And now?

It’s the same. I take the camera out as often as I can. It frees me. Lets me say what I need to say. Helps me see the world for what it is.

Through the lens of my camera. And the lens of my mind.

Is photography important to me? Yes. More than life and death? I’d say it’s everything.