For many years now I have been entranced by photography. I know little about it, aside from a single semester of an introductory photography class that I took in high school. I realized very quickly that while I loved looking for new sights and moments to capture, I had little patience for the technical details. So I stuck to my point-and-shoot digital cameras that took little effort and cash flow to operate.
More recently, however, I have become intrigued by the SLR world. Having played around with a few, I soon learned that this was something I could really get into. I still didn't know a thing about the technical details, but I could learn.
My little experience and lack of a paying job coupled with my student loans left me standing on the sidelines looking in for quite some time. I would watch people with their sleek shining contraptions snap away at tiny details, adjusting focus and aperture to get that perfect shot, while I stood enviously by with my pocket-sized camera. I needed in.
Three things happened recently to get me into this world. First, a friend of mine was selling his old Nikon SLR in favor of an upgrade. Eager for a deal, I none-the-less mulled over the prospect for weeks; I emailed all my old photographer contacts, hounded photography stores, and peppered questions to sales people who were both helpful and condescending. I poured over my friend's photos, all achieved with this camera. I had admired them before, but now I carefully inspected them. I fretted over the camera's age, pondered on newer models, and basically thought the process past any reasonable point of cold feet. In the end, my car's sudden need of repairs made my mind up for me and I declined, but the bug was there.
Next, my birthday approached. Armed with an extra bit of birthday cash, I began to consider the possibility again. Surely I could splurge on myself for a bit of a birthday treat? I had a few photography opportunities coming up this next year, and I wanted to be ready. Maybe now was the time.
All these events were swirling together, brewing away, but the perfect storm had yet to hit. And as storms sometimes do, it brought with it a tragedy.
This week the same friend of mine who was selling his camera died quite suddenly. He was only 30 years old. I was uncertain how to react to this sudden news. We had never been terribly close, but this person had shared a piece of his brief life with me, and I with him.
In the end, I decided, as most people do when faced with our own mortality, that life is too short for indecision and uncertainty. I wanted to do this, so now was the time. Today I went out and bought myself my very first digital SLR camera.
So this is my first toe-dip into a world that is still very foreign. I don't speak the language, although I think I have done a pretty good job in the last few weeks of pretending I do. As with most languages, its mostly about the arm gestures and confident accent.
I am always stuck with what to name my blog. I am a fan of the obscure, ambiguous titles. Today I went with the name of one of my favorite books:
"I am not a smart man, particularly, but one day, at long last, I stumbled from the dark woods of my own, and my family's, and my country's past, holding in my hands these truths: that love grows from the rich loam of forgiveness; that mongrels make good dogs; that the evidence of God exists in the roundness of things. This much, at least, I've figured out. I know this much is true." - Wally Lamb
As messy and complicated and wonderful and awful life can be, happiness can be found in the small truths. The simple wonders.
this much is true.
