I lay here as the flower branches canopy my lids and the grass bed becomes my cushion. Air, pure wind, cradles my face. Images flash through my mind as it creates another whole world. Water kissing my feet and sand tickling my toes, clouds on the tips of my fingers, and glitter on my eyelids. I see the world through the permanent lens that's built into my mind. It leaks through my fingers and seeps into the photographs that I create. Every 4 by 6 frame holds a different story: a moment, frozen to sift through moments later or years after.
For me, and I am sure for many others, photography began as a simple click of the camera in my hands. I clicked anything and everything, from salt shakers to butterflies in my backyard. Then it leaked into the way I viewed everything around me. Now it's more than a hobby. It's a passion that I feel uneasy without. The familiarity of the camera sidling my face is like eating food and drinking water.
But as with everything else, photography comes with its ups and downs. When the ideas of your mind don't translate into your photographs, into something solid that you can hold and touch and show, frustration begins to creep along the edges of your conscience. But even this, I've learned, is part of growing and molding as a photographer. Face each hurdle with a clear mind and fresh ideas, and the hurdles will slowly lessen. Photography is a blossom that needs watering and care. Only when you are determined in your endeavors will you notice the blossom turn into a flower.
