The Photographer’s Chronicle
Why taking pictures is both a creative outlet and the fulfillment of a long-term wish
Photography is my second career, one that overlaps with the first (writing and editing) but has taken on a life of its own over the past dozen-plus years.
My first camera — a Pentax — was a high school graduation gift. I was planning to major in journalism and my second set of “parents” — Fran and Bill Waranius — gave me the camera thinking it would be helpful in my future career.
I learned the basics, but for years that’s as far as it went. At best I was C-level, partly because I’m neither patient nor mechanical. I had zero interest — and a lot of anxiety — about working in a darkroom because I was afraid of screwing up the prints. Rolling my own film — something you did when working for a newspaper because of the cost — was something I never managed to master.
It wasn’t until I started to work for a school district — a point at which I could buy rolls of film and get someone at the local grocery store to print my work — that I started to become more comfortable behind a camera. At the time, our kids were small, and we were far away from most of my family, so the demand to become at least proficient at taking photos was there as well.
But if pressed, I would be the first to tell you I had no clue what I was doing. I truly flew by the seat of my khakis.
Shifting My Mindset
So, what changed? In reality it was a combination of factors, but the things I often point to are the death of my father and our son’s move to New York when he was 11.
I always wanted to be an artist, someone who could create things or set scenes purely from my imagination. As a child and, if I’m being honest, well into my early 40s, I told myself I wasn’t creative. Yes, I could interview people and tell their stories, but that was it. It didn’t feel — uses snobby slightly British accent here — “artistic” to me.
My fits and starts attempts at fiction, playwriting, songwriting, and anything having to do with “visual art” fell flat. Early on, I learned I could not sing — I lip sync “Happy Birthday” — and I have to look down to be sure both feet are going in the proper order. That’s not the best resume when you’re surrounded by a family of creative types, especially a dad who could create anything visual in almost any form (except, ironically, photography).
My father’s death in 2007 was not a surprise; he had been in poor health for years. Except for a whirlwind period after his illness was first diagnosed in the 1970s, he only on occasion used his gift for creating art, saying the muse had gone onto other things.
Two years later, our son Ben had moved to New York for the Broadway revival of “Ragtime.” Jill and I shuffled back and forth each week, taking turns caring for him in the city and Emma and Kate in Virginia while desperately trying to hang on to our jobs. As I’ve written before, I started taking my camera while schlepping Ben back and forth to rehearsals because I wanted to capture what was happening in our lives.
I also started taking pictures of things — buildings, reflections, urban prosperity and decay — that I thought my father would have appreciated. It was a way to have him alongside me on this journey that had turned our family upside down. Also, digital photography had taken hold and it was a game changer; I no longer had to worry about the mechanics of film and could take as many pictures as I wanted without having to pay for the prints.
I still wasn’t very good at the technical aspects, but photography sparked something at a time when writing and editing exclusively was no longer fulfilling. As a person with undiagnosed (and worsening) ADD, I found I could focus when I held a camera in my hand, which in itself was a godsend. And while I did not get my father’s natural talent, I did get his “eye.”
Today, 16 years after his death and 14 years after my behind-the-camera journey began, I’m still learning something new every day. My business now involves a variety of different projects involving photography, writing, or some combination of the two. I’ve also learned to shift my mindset in a way that has helped reconcile what had been a lifelong insecurity.
While I’m not a “creator” — someone who can make something out of thin air — I now embrace my role as a “chronicler.” My “art” — I still have some trouble calling it that years later — comes from what I observe and capture in words and images.
Now a decade into this second career, I’m often asked: “What do you shoot?”
My go-to response: “I shoot what I see.”
A Special Family Trip
Earlier this year, our entire family went to New Orleans for our niece’s wedding. The trip was an all-too-rare opportunity to gather everyone — Jill, me, four adult children and spouses/significant others, grandchild, and my mom — in the same place. I also found time to walk around the city and take pictures of the random things I observe.
It remains one of my favorite things to do when I have a little spare time. And I still find myself looking for the images my dad would appreciate because of the colors or the shapes. It is one way I keep his spirit with me.
Below are some images from that trip. You can see more by clicking here.
And finally, we could not make such a significant trip without having a family photo to mark the occasion. Thanks to Jill’s brother and sister-in-law, Michael and Jennifer, we were able to gather the entire crew before the wedding for this shot, taken by Eye Wander Photo of Baton Rouge.
