Rediscovering Inspiration
For more than 30 years, I’ve been a photographer. For most of that time, my camera was always with me. I photographed constantly—it was how I breathed, how I connected, how I hid.
But a few years ago, that began to change. Slowly, almost without noticing, I stopped picking up my camera. The spark seemed to be gone. And that scared me more than I can say.
Photography had been my identity since my twenties. It meant everything to me. But as I grew and began to truly find myself, I realized something: I didn’t need to hide behind being the photographer anymore. The label, the shield, the role—it wasn’t serving me the way it once did. I finally liked myself, just as I was. And yet, that shift left me wondering… who am I if not this?
I remembered the days when ideas poured out of me—on a morning run, I’d dream up elaborate shoots, costumes, wild concepts—and I couldn’t wait to make them happen. But those ideas faded. I wondered if maybe I was finished with photography, ready to leave it behind.
And then—I met her.
A young woman. Free, alive, unafraid. We planned a shoot on a rainy, windy day, and instead of canceling, we went for it. We let the weather be part of the story. We played. We laughed. And somewhere in the middle of it all, our spirits connected. For the first time in years, I felt lit up again.
Afterward, she sent me a message that stopped me in my tracks:
“Oh my goodness, I just looked at the photos. You did such an amazing job. I’m so grateful for you and your work. I love people taking photos of me, but then I look at them and always feel bad because I feel like I look distorted. But you captured me in such a raw, authentic way and I love them. This time last year I was struggling a lot with mental health issues and addiction but just seeing how much light is in my features now that I’m sober and leading a healthier life—it makes me beyond happy. And I’m so, so happy you were the one to capture it.”
Her words cracked me wide open.
She reminded me that we all affect one another. That being present, being open, and truly seeing people is what matters most. And that maybe—just maybe—letting myself be seen is the bravest work of all.
And for the first time in a long time, I feel like playing again.
I’m not sharing her photos, that is her story to tell but damn they are good.
