|everyday is Saturday night, but I can't wait for Sunday morning
||[Jul. 12th, 2012 | 06:16 pm]
|||||Limit To Your Love - James Blake||]|
After a few sudden, awesome months of work, this is the first photo in just as long that I took because I was alone and the light was beautiful.
Sometimes I forget about this place, where all my photos went for years before anyone noticed. I forget the feeling of photographing something because in its stillness, it seems to breathe.
The work I do these days is incredible: new people, new assignments, new ideas. Every other day, someone I may or may not know asks me to do something different, and I love it. People are beginning to see me and my work and every time I leave a shoot, I believe it's all happening just a little more. Taking photos is the only thing I can see myself doing forever, and the past years of practice are slowly turning into a career I always wanted, but never expected to arrive in the way it did.
Something I miss in the pace of this new work is the silence I know I used to enjoy the most. Photos with friends who know me well enough to not smile at the camera. Photos of nights out in the same places with different people. Photos of something I can remember, because my memory is only as sharp as the photos that exist of what happened. Without photos I don't know what I did yesterday, or even awhile ago. It's true- you can ask my friends. You seem to know them all by name.
There are moments in between blinks when people look away and I almost disappear- when photos are their most honest, like people's faces in parties right after the flash goes off, like seeing something beautiful in a place only you know. I disappear less and less often these days.
Something about that morning reminded me of a moment. I love what I do. I will always love what I do. But I miss many things, and I hope to keep them with me.