I could never have predicted the direction my life has gone in. When I was younger, I never would have even considered I’d be pursuing a life in writing, a life in photography, a life in producing and sharing different forms of art.
I was not an overly artistic child, I remember doing the usual things kids engage in; colouring and drawing and art projects, but I don’t remember feeling passionate about such things. I never felt that I was naturally gifted at drawing or painting or writing, though I remember that one of my favourite things to do was trace images of horses from my favourite books onto paper, though whether this was an enjoyment of drawing or just because I adored horses, I couldn’t say.
I had art class in the first two years of high school, I remember making little clay figurines, learning the basics of ink drawing, and pencil. I think I enjoyed it, the act of making something from nothing, but I got bored learning perspective and shading and all the technical things about art. And a general, pervasive lack of confidence in myself deterred me from continuing art in any form afterward.
In my latter years in high school, I did reasonably well in writing, and I enjoyed it too. In grade 11, we wrote short stories, and mine was read in front of the class as my teacher enjoyed it so much — cue massive introvert embarrassment here — but despite my embarrassment, I smiled on the inside and tucked that little memory away inside me, that I had created something good enough to be shared in front of others, that maybe I did have some ideas that were worth exploring.
But then came over a decade of a complete creative void. I left high school and decided not to pursue anything in university — my interests not strong enough, my doubts too much so — instead I entered the hospitality industry here in my hometown where I worked and partied until I was 28 and burnt out.
Burnouts are usually indicators that changes need to be made in our lives, and mine was just that. During that time between 2015 and 2017, I changed my life drastically — diet, lifestyle, work, friendships, hobbies, it all was subject to an overhaul. I found myself pulled back into writing, into creating in some way, and I have not stopped since.
Burnout also started me on a journey to reconnecting with nature. My dad and I started going on nature walks often, beginning to explore the forests near us and beginning to build that relationship with the mountains and woodlands. These nature walks are what led me to ask for my first DSLR camera for my birthday in 2017.
My dad has been into photography most of his life, with periods when he was more engaged with it than others, but in recent years, he has returned to it with passion, and this time, I get to enjoy this endeavour with him.
I remember the small dark room he had in one of our old houses, I remember him pulling out the massive slide projector, rolling down the white screen, and the steady clicking of slides changing as new images appeared in front of me — family mostly, special occasions, but so much nature mixed in too.
So maybe it’s always been in my blood, it just took me many years to feel that spark of interest in the art form.
Now, I cannot imagine my life without it.
As it is with learning any new skill, those initial weeks, months, years, can be frustrating, to say the least. I almost gave up on photography several times, not able to capture what my eye saw, not able to reproduce what I felt.
The technical side of things never really drew my interest, and it still doesn’t — I haven’t learned all the ins and outs of my camera, despite using the same one for 6 years now, I don’t shoot in full manual mode, there is so much I don’t know about the technology, so many settings that sit unchanged. I don’t spend hours afterward, editing and tweaking to the finest detail — that isn’t what interests me, the “perfect” photo.
My photos have flaws. They are imperfect. Sometimes not sharply in focus.
But perfection was never the point.
Photography, I’ve come to realize, is about two things for me.
First, it’s taught me a whole new way of being in nature, it’s asked me to slow down, to look around, to open my eyes and see everything around me. It’s a mindful activity, not about trekking far and wide for the perfect vista, but rather opening my eyes to the scenes right in front of me. This act of slowing down and paying attention has flowed into and impacted all areas of my life.
The second thing photography is about for me is capturing a feeling; what I capture is meant to convey an emotion, an energy from the nature I’m surrounded by. I want my photos to encapsulate what I felt when I was out there, almost having you hear the steady patter of raindrops, or feel the warmth of that sunbeam.
Of all the times I became frustrated, hating being a beginner, I am so glad I didn’t give up on photography, so glad I stuck through those times when it just didn’t work for long enough to see the other side.
Because the art of photography has given me a whole lot more than just pretty pictures.
♡ Whitney
This is so close to the bone Whitney... I could have been written for me... thank you for sharing something I understand so deeply. X