Did I always want to be a photographer? No….I wanted to be a meteorologist. If we had cable, I’m sure I would have been glued to the Weather Channel 24/7. Instead, I watched endless tornado videos that my dad would bring home from work at The National Weather Service. I went to college and majored in Broadcast Meteorology. I went on a storm chase the summer before my senior year and thought I was on the fast track to become the next Jim Cantore; standing on the beach battling the winds and the storm surge when the next hurricane came ashore. My senior year came and went. I graduated. Turns out, finding a job as a meteorologist isn’t as easy as I thought it would be. End of story/dream.
The next few years were a blur. I moved to Georgia, got married, bought a house, and a year later had a baby. One day, while I was going through some old boxes of random junk from when we were cleaning out the room for Cole’s nursery, I came across the picture I took with a home-made pin hole camera for my high school photography class. It was under-exposed. I couldn’t see anything but fuzzy outlines of some sort of object, but the memory of taking that picture and the hope and love I had that it would turn out, came rushing back. Did I decide then that I was going to become a photographer? No. With 5 years of marriage, three moves, and two babies; the truth is, I’m still “becoming” a photographer. Each time I would get my business of the ground, we move and I have to start all over again, and each time I’ve asked myself if the struggle of starting over is really worth it…….
Unpacking this last move, I hoped I would find that picture again because maybe when I saw it, the answer would be written on the back. I’m still searching for it…..
