Confession: I know my stuff. Correction: I used to know my stuff. I have the stop bath stains on my prom dress to prove it (and I went into the dark room during prom to develop film and not to, uh, ... that's how serious I was about my craft). I have a journalism degree from Indiana University and I was a hot-shot shooter on campus. No lie. And I had every intention of becoming a journalist/photojournalist. I had every intention and maybe some talent, but not the ambition or cajones. I see the work of those I knew, lesser shooters, all over the place. They have made careers and far surpassed my ability, because they had more ambition and more guts.
When I had to pay the rent with income from something other than writing and shooting, I left my equipment at my folk's house. Photography could no more be a hobby for me than I could "be friends" with an old love. So, I probably did not put a SLR camera in my hands for 15 years.
Now, however, I think I've grown up, maybe. I think I can be friends with photography. I can enjoy it without thinking "what might have been". Not to say I don't get really giddy when I get a good shot. And when my old boyfriend calls me on my birthday, I still giggle a lot. But it's okay. We're friends.
(Oh, and Sarah, no, this 30 days wasn't work. You should see that in some of the quality. But I think this was a good exercise in mindfulness. I think it's a good mindset to be in when you look around and ask, Where's the beauty? Where's the humor? Is there symmetry? Is there a story? Is there irony? Where is joy? Where's the light? What's that? A whale! Cool.)