At an early age I fell in love with photography. The idea that I could make images like the ones I was seeing in newspapers and magazines was thrilling. I immersed myself into the world of photojournalism and I want to learn it all. I took both photography one and two classes in high school, and then I thought it would be fun to work on the high school newspaper and yearbook. I went to journalism camps and focus on the photography sections. Quickly, I thought photography was my calling and by my senior year I knew it was, at least as much as anyone at this young age could know what they would do the rest of their life.

And it was thrilling, I had a good run but in my mid twenties I stop growing. Not visually or creatively but from a lack of business knowledge and lack of desire to learn this part of any professional endeavor. I have no notion of how to run a business. I am horrible at marketing. I am one of those creatives that only knows how to create and really need someone who can run the business side leaving me to focus on nothing but the creating. That didn’t happen.

I set down my cameras and started to look elsewhere for work. I did lots of things, I was a concrete laborer, a truck driver, a line cook, I went back to school, was a substitute teacher and finally ended up being a chef until the day I wasn’t. The one constant during all these years is I never stop seeing images. In the middle of restaurant service I see moments, cooks sweating, pans flaming, tempers rising. As a truck driver I will never forget taking the road less traveled and one afternoon coming upon a small Amish school. As I turn the corner I catch sight of the playground and the whole school is out on the ball diamond playing baseball dressed in their traditional clothes. It is about as picture perfect as a scene can be.

I don’t really know why but recently I bought a Nikkormat camera with a 50mm lens and ran a roll of film through it. It feels comfortable, it feels like I was just doing it yesterday, shifting the fstops, follow focusing, and making sure the exposure is right. Much like the couple who divorces only to discover years later they still love each other, I fall again.

At 54 years old, I haven’t held a film camera in my hands and made images of anything of real news importance, either to me or otherwise, in twenty plus years. At my age, I realize I am not going to be traveling the world, climbing mountains, or exploring the Amazon while shooting images for the National Geographic. I doubt I will be shooting overly skinny and scantily clad fashion models in Milan, Paris, or New York City anytime soon. I certainly have no plans to find myself ducking Molotov cocktails and dodging bullets while covering the war in Syria or in any other war torn arena. Chances are I will not make a single portrait of the rich or famous.

No, I understand my place, my pictures are right here, they are in my own backyard.