When I was a little girl, my father was constantly taking pictures. He had an old Minolta film SLR that was always, always, always hanging around his neck, to the point where he seemed not quite dressed if he didn't have it on him. He did all kinds of neat things with that camera, like cool double exposures, gorgeous landscapes, and dramatic portraits. He loved photography, and was active in photography until he died in 2012.
I never understood the time and effort he had to put into making all of those photos, until I started attempting to make my own. Patience, deep breathing, and crazy yoga poses were just a few of the things I found myself doing to get the shot I saw in my head.
In 2012, my father died suddenly, and unexpectedly. While preparing for his services, my siblings and I sorted through old photos with the intention of making a tribute to him. We all realized that there were very few photos of any of us with him, partly because he was always behind the camera, and partly because none of us had realized the importance of such things until he was gone. That was when I decided to learn photography, not just wing it.
Luckily for me, I have two adorable little girls who are mostly happy to be my models. Which is good because I find it hard not to take, and make, photos. If I go a day where I don't take a picture, I get antsy.
Thank you, Daddy, for passing on your love for photography.