I don’t hate photography.

I am tired from 15 years of conflating usefulness with art in being the friend with a camera. I am exhausted from the grief of never quite managing to replace my professional identity.

I don’t hate photography.

I can pick up the camera and get shots like this in a single shot, straight from my bed, with 3 clicks in post-processing. It’s not magazine-worthy, but it is vaguely reminiscient of medium format vibes.

I don’t hate photography.

I hate that I let the distractions of the world get between me and my actual interests.

I don’t hate photography.

I love that I have an excellent eye and stellar tastes in tools to accomplish precisely what I want to paint with light. In this room alone, there are 17 examples of my art hanging on the walls.

I don’t hate photography.

I am done seeking outside approval to wear as some artificial badge of honor proclaiming I am good enough for whatever arbitrary standard of the day the in-crowd proclaims is good.

I don’t hate photography.

And just for today, just from my perch on my bed if nothing else, I am redefining my relationship to photography, to my gear, to the crafts of creativity that feed my soul.

I don’t hate photography.