Photography has been a constant companion for many years. It started innocently enough with my first walk into a high school darkroom. Now it is an integral part of my life. It has been a hobby, an amateur pursuit, a release, a means of expression and a crutch through tough times. It has been a fleeting lover, a long-lost friend, a confidant. It has gone away but always comes back. It stays with me and goes places only I seem to go…so I guess I’m never really alone if I have a camera in my hand.

I have thought a lot lately about the professional vs. amateur approach to photography. I have dabbled in shooting commercial work; just enough to scare me a way from it, honestly. I have had my work exhibited and published. I have sold prints, books and zines. So I’m not quite sure what column that puts me in. I most often consider myself a “passionate” photographer. I do it strictly out of my passion for creating. I am constantly thinking of different ways of getting my work out in the world, connecting with other like-minded souls. I listen, read, watch so much photo-related content. It never gets boring. It is often inspiring.

I love the look of photos in print. I love the feel of paper with images printed on them. I love the fresh smell of ink when I receive a zine from a friend. I love leafing through a classic photo book from my library… it’s like spending time with an old friend. I love discovering work by photographers I’ve never heard of, whether they are young, new talent, or an old master, unknown to me until today.

When I think back on the harder moments in my life, and it has always been photography that has helped me cope.

Call it what you will.

I call it passion.