I started taking photography seriously in January 2015. The scene was Brooklyn, New York, 30 degrees & sunny. I have no idea why, but I remember the color of the building I was standing by, staring at my photographer friends as they talked camera lingo that sounded Chinese. I thought, “maybe I could be like them.” During this particular season of my life, I was looking for anything that could potentially offer me some happiness. So I decided I would try. Just me and my iPhone.
I had just moved home from college and money for a camera was not a possibility. And when money came around I didn’t feel worthy to buy a “real” camera. I was extremely nervous about what my professional photographer friends would say about me if I purchased a “real” camera. So I just kept using my iPhone. I was obsessive. Dangerously obsessive. I’ve never told anyone this, but I know for fact I have taken almost 100,000 photos on iPhones. Rarely for better, and mainly for worse, I have always been a person who lives in extremes. So I don’t know why, but taking photos began to consume me. The truth is I enjoy letting things consume me. Even when they bring me pain, I allow the pain to become home.
Fast forward to this day, June 16th, 2017, and a metal rectangle with an attached piece of glass feels like an appendage to me. I always, no questions asked, have a camera in my car, my backpack, or in my hand. And now, for some reason, thousands of people follow me on this platform and tens of thousands on Instagram. I used to find refuge in that, but thankfully, it’s not enough anymore. What was once my identity became my demon. I often joked with my photo buddies about how I was “lost” or felt like my art sucked, but I was so, so serious. We laughed it off because honestly, it was funny in a lot of ways, but I always knew I meant it. But I didn’t want to act like the guy who was caring too much. Deep down I don’t feel like I am allowed to care that much. I think that’s because I still don’t feel like I’m a real photographer. In this sick, twisted way, I don’t feel good enough to call myself one, so I definitely can’t let my friends know how much it really means to me. I hope that makes sense.
As someone who grew up skateboarding and listening to punk music, it is safe to say that I became “a cog in the machine.” I have created photos for likes, brands, and followers, but I can honestly say I have created very, very little that I am proud of.
A few months ago I truly thought I was done taking photos. I was ashamed of all my photos. Disappointed is probably a better word. Disappointed that I spent two years creating for other people and not myself. I stayed awake at night thinking about the time I had wasted. This is extreme, for sure, dramatic even, but it is honestly how I felt. To this moment I still have no idea why taking photos is so important to me. I have searched, and searched, and searched my heart, but I can’t pin it. I just love taking photos. And when you love something - when you truly love something, and you feel like you’re disappointing it - it hurts. It hurts like hell.
In this time I was considering deleting my Instagram and giving up my camera. But one night I stumbled upon a video about film photography and it happened again - Brooklyn 2015. Fast forward a few weeks and my basic, beginner film camera (that I drove two hours to a sketchy Walmart for) now feels like my old iPhone. My last two “photography” trips with friends, I even left my DSLR at home. Crazy, I know.
The man in the photos above is named Jim. He has a PHD. He joined the Peace Corps at age 70 and moved to Macedonia. We don’t have similar religious or political beliefs, but he still gave me a hug when we parted even though we had only known each other for 30 minutes. Jim gave me his phone number and I am hoping to visit him soon to take more film photos of his pastel paintings he is working on. The photos above are, I think, some of the first photos I have ever taken that I am proud of. I honestly can’t even tell you why, I just know that I like them. But I also love things that you can’t describe.
I don’t know why I wrote this here. I just know I wanted to voice it somewhere, that for the first time since I picked up a camera, I am finally making something for me.
PS: until further notice, this page will be dedicated to my film photos only.
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