I love photography. When I say love, I mean LLLOOOVVVEEE. Pneumonia, out photographing, my Wedding Day, offering to be the photographer, lightening storm, inside working on my digitals (I am not stupid) chasing the edges of light (I really am that stupid). While my friends were cruising muscle cars with Journey or the like in the deck, I was listening to Art Wolfe on cassette steering towards Mt. Rainier . I love photography so much my wife refers to my camera as my mistress.
It has been my passion for over two decades; Nature, for – well we need not divulge how old I am – suffice it to say longer than photography. The two combined rather early on to privately became a treasured collection. They were trial and error, nonetheless humble treasures to me. Each catalogued with a memory.
Earlier this year I pulled some of my negatives. Scan, pause, reminisce; repeat. As I passed from one to the next I wondered how many I could recapture and refine and then sadly asked myself how many no longer exist? Is the wolf in slide #### still hunting or is her pup raising pups? For over two decades have I been privately neglecting?
In a single moment I think I challenged myself. Why would I not use my passion to help ensure the places and things of my memories where guarantees for others experience in the future? How would I help Nature be a library of living and moving memories rather than stills; cataloged, archived and preserved? How would I convince others to join me in preserving the living as delicately as we preserve the stills?
I think I felt frozen, overwhelmed by the idea that my efforts would not matter unless I inspired hundreds to embrace a change. Then I paused, would it matter if my humble treasures inspired a hundred or one? Not so much…because at least I am trying.
By the way, my wife and I have worked out a deal…while the mistress can not sleep in bed with us, she will continue to sleep under the same roof!
