How I got into Photography

All of my life I've been surrounded by beautiful artwork and the masters that created it. As a child my mother, a painter, would drag me and my little brother to exhibits, galleries and openings and at the time I didn't appreciate it(in fact I hated it). As I grew and my interests broadened from those of an adolescent boy, I found myself enjoying art, but lacking a creative outlet. It wasn't until I living in Phoenix, AZ and during a moment of soul searching that, on a whim enrolled, in a photography class at the local community college.

I had no real knowledge or skills, but it was something different and sounded interesting. I had grown up playing with my mom's Minolta SRT and had a fair share of disposable cameras for snapshots of friends or family, but I was never drawn in to the world through a lens. It wasn't until I saw my first silver print slowly come to life in that tray of developer that I became hooked.



I spent the following months learning about the technical details of aperture, shutter speed, focus, etc all the while trying to compose shots that reflected the scenes I witnessed. Unfortunately my first attempts were amateur at best (and total crap at worst), mostly snapshots similar to those of my childhood only with better control over exposure and focus.

As time wore on and my professor pushed me to test my limits and explore more, I found myself letting go and just shooting. First was getting closer to my subject, which was often important with only a 50mm lens to rely on. Second was to find a new way of seeing. I found this new vision with the long exposures of night photography. Everything takes on new appearances and meaning when it's obscured by shadows or illuminated by artificial lights and I enjoyed witnessing those changes.

My final project for the semester was a series of photos that represented a common theme. Being excited about my new nocturnal life, I did the obvious and chose night life in Phoenix. What was originally going to be a series on the people and places that come to life after the sun sets, slowly morphed into capturing the emptiness of places that would otherwise be full of life. At the time I felt lonely and lost in a place so far from what I knew and the darkness and emptiness of the hours between sunset and sunrise reflected those feelings.

After the semester I put my camera down for 6 months and almost didn't pick it back up. It wasn't until after I moved back home and welcomed my son into the world that I found myself behind the lens once again. Late one night after lulling my newborn son to sleep it began to snow, and the world outside my window took on that midnight luster that drew me in some months before. I thank that one moment, and my willingness to listen to my soul, for where I am today and where I'm going tomorrow. I hope this blog will be a witness to the future, and to help me express what I try to illustrate in those tiny grains of silver halide.



Jimmy