I tumbled across photography on my first day of kinder. I was excited to see people. I stormed into the classroom and picked a toy camera out of all the others and “photographed” everyone in the room. We kids were happy. The adults were laughing. I was exploring.
My Dad had this automatic film camera lying around for family occasions. Then one day I discovered it and immediately shot a roll of film. The weather was gloomy and the only thing I could find interesting was the cargo ship outside our twenty-ninth floor apartment window. I took a photo every inch closer the ship got closer to the shore. When we got the film back from lab my dad was baffled by the series of photos of the same ship. So am I today.
That way of seeing still remains in me. Long before I took photos of the street, I watched. You know those times you find yourself so not belonging to the world you're in? Exhausted, I stepped away to my corner, and watched. It was therapeutic dwelling into the peripheral of the worlds of others. Being the audience let me looked away from mine, at least for a little while. But at the same time it showed me there is so much more than what I had. People get to one place from another. I can too get somewhere. It fascinates me how our lives unfold, from one page to the next. From one scene to another. At every scene that we stop and look there is a before and an after.
My world has changed, but I still watch. I learned. What photos has been to me will hopefully be something more. After all, I wish the kid within me can live and play as long as I can.