I love photography. It and I have been in a long-term relationship – almost 64 years.  To anyone who has known me for more than 30 seconds, they would meet my proclamation about loving photography  with a deadpan, “Duh.”

I enjoy the process of creating the image, looking at images created by humans, and teaching others how to create images that render in two dimensions what inspired them. The most exciting and rewarding part of the process is not creating the image, developing the film and making prints in the darkroom (though I miss those days), or tweaking slightly the digital image to make for a better print. The true joy of photography is seeing. There is a reason that my first photography book – The Seeing, Not the Taking: A guide to seeing for photographers – emphasized the importance of seeing and then using the camera’s many functions to render a photograph that conveys what you saw. Not what you looked at, but what you saw.

To be a photographer is to literally be one who draws with light. Whether I am teaching, presenting or reviewing other’s portfolios, I find a way to tell people that they can improve their work by learning about light’s color, quality and direction. It’s a game changer.

I love photography, too, because it provides a silent voice that resonates longer than a spoken word. Images can be viewed often, and with different perspectives when seen over time. Many years ago, a student in one of my classes began to noticeably cry when I used an example from Lewis and Clark’s journal to discuss how the way one sees something can lead to creative decisions when making an image. Their spelling was atrocious, but they sure could navigate. After class, she came up to me to apologize. I told her there was no need to. She said she felt compelled to offer an explanation. She then shared that she had suffered a traumatic brain injury in a car accident many years before. Against all odds, she had an amazing recovery of most skills. While she had regained some functions, she had not lost persistent pain.  “I used to be the person that others in the office asked to edit their writings. But now I write like that,” she said, referring to the journal entry I shared. “I write like that so no one pays attention to what I write,” she said. “Photography is my voice now.”

Even when I am without a camera, I am seeing images and thinking of the choices I would make if I had a camera at that moment – shutter speed, aperture, lens choice, ISO, camera position, and so on – because I love the seeing, even when I am not taking.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You can see some of my photography here

This blog section is titled Philo, which is Greek for loving, as in love of: for example, philanthropy: love of people/humanity; philosophy: love of knowledge or wisdom. My writings for Philo examine “love of” many things — both subtle and sublime — that comprise life and living.

Check out my photographic project for the year, The Year of 70: Decades of Joy and Thanks.

.