I recently submitted my portfolio to a blog/magazine and with it they wanted to know what inspired me to be a photographer. I spent lots of time thinking about it before I settled on some things. It’s a difficult question for me to answer concisely. But I really tried. I thought I would share what I wrote here.
What inspires me as a photographer? I’m all over the place with the answer. First my dad inspired me. When I was about eight or nine years old he came home with vacation pictures from Germany that included the grand architecture, the beautiful scenery and then a close up of a well used ashtray. My first thought was “Eww, gross.” But, my second thought was, “Dad takes a pretty good picture. And, well, I guess they smoke in Germany, too.” Humans inspire me. The little ones with their bouncy curls and chubby hands and the older ones all dressed up in wedding attire facing one of the biggest changes in their lives. Plants inspire me. I have a whole collection of photos of interesting to me flowers and plants. Dogs inspire me to take pictures of them. I can’t get enough of their fuzzy dog faces.
The other really important person who inspired me to be a photographer was my mom. She insisted upon making memories for my sister and me as kids. She would drive us around early in the morning to find the sunrise. She would organize the family vacations so that we would have memories to take with us into adulthood. She helped us burn pictures into our brains. I think I tried too hard to stuff all that into my brain because now I can’t remember a thing ever. So, therefore the logical solution was to take pictures so I don’t have to. Now I have two daughters and photograph them until their smiles and laughter turn into growls of exhaustion and they run away. I want to remember every bit of their little growing selves.
I photograph all kinds of things professionally: weddings, families, parties, singers, bands, girls in pin-up garb. It’s all in the name of creating something beautiful and interesting for the subjects to look back on, share, enjoy, laugh, cry and remember. I make memories for people just like my mom did for me. I find myself thinking about that dirty ashtray picture quite a lot. I don’t know why. It’s burned in there. Instead of thinking, “Ew, dirty ashtray,” I think of my dad and feel happy. Some images have a way of sticking in a person’s brain. I guess I am inspired by the hope that the collection of the work I do for others will stick with them and their loved ones, like a little reservoir for memories made.
In other news, I got word yesterday that my uncle’s dog, Jake is nearing the end of his life. Before Jake was my uncle’s dog, he started out with us. I raised Jake as a puppy when I was in college. After that he traveled with me to my short life in California, protected me and my first born and moved back home to Texas with us. I had to give him a temporary home with my uncle who generously offered to take him in until we could find a place with a yard. Time went by and my uncle really grew to love Jake. I made the decision to let him stay with him and he has now lived more of his life with my uncle than he did with me. Jake is our special family dog. He was a difficult puppy, but grew into one of the best and smartest dogs I have ever known. He’s had a good life getting all the attention he needs and occasionally getting to spend time chasing skunks and other smells on my uncle’s land in South Texas. He’s a good boy and we are all going to be very sad when the day comes.
Here is a picture of him and my uncle taken a few years ago in my mom’s backyard. I’ve posted it here before, but wanted to share again. It describes their relationship pretty well and is one of my favorite pictures ever of two of my favorite souls.
2 comments