Going Somewhere. Venice, CA. Fujifilm XT1. 2015.
I read on Instagram today, someone was shooting their last wedding. Then they were done with it. Looked like he preferred shooting models. Not my thing, but I like the force of it. People do this - narrow down by making certain sacrifices. Even if you’re good at it, sometimes you know - good is the enemy of great. And if you keep doing the good thing, you’ll never push past it.
That’s a great moment in any life. And filled with fear.
It takes guts to cut out something you’re good at. It takes a deeper knowledge of yourself. And life. I was a kid photographer. I loved that work. And you can get some great shots. And there’s nothing better than kids. In fact, at the time, if you’d asked me about street photography, I’d have told you - that’ll never be me. Not because I didn’t love it, but because I was scared of it. My favorite photographs, and photographers, were all from the street. I grew up with a Carl Mydans print on the wall, right outside my mom’s bedroom. I remember thinking about its beauty as I tiptoed past it, deathly afraid to enter.
We get scared of the things we admire most. We put it past ourselves and think of it as other. Our moon shot. And that makes it very very fragile. Because what if? What if we can’t do it? What if it yells at us? What if we fail at it?
Which we will. Over and over again.
Cutting out things we’re good at is our half-measure toward committing. I may not declare as strongly this is what I’m going to do. But I can very decidedly declare what I’m not doing. And that is getting close. To being decided.
At some point you must decide - this is where I’m going. The hard thing is that the road forward starts with a step back, into a shadow by a door you’re afraid to open. Because you are not sure what you will awaken when you enter. But enter you must. Succeed or fail, the only chance at love is asleep on the other side.