I feel like I have to update this blog with something. I’m not quite sure why. I’d like to say that it is some unknown force guiding me, but that’s kind of crazy…maybe. To be honest, I actually spent 6 hours deciding what to update with. I cycled through possible topics such as music, books, and the occasional “my life sucks” thought. None of them appealed to me very strongly. And at about 4:00am I thought, “Hey, let’s reminisce about how I got where I am in life…”. Guess what, that’s what I’m doing.
So where am I in life? I’m 18 and about to head off into first year University at UBC; I’ll be working with the IB Club in making the Global Ink magazine and will play ultimate there as well. I shall have a job working for Artona, a local photography company and I hope to pursue a career in photography. Gee whiz, all that at the age of 18. I know a lot of people who are 18 think of themselves as independent (they are after all, legal adults now) and capable of anything (true to some extent). Honestly though…18. If you think about it, it’s a really small number; doesn’t make you feel so big in retrospect now does it? At 18, I have a heck of a lot of things to learn about the world, society, people, and myself. Yet at 18, what I do could make or break my future. So where am I in life? Somewhere between 82 and 17. What will the world be like when I’m 82? God only knows.
How did I get to the magic number of 18? Well I was born on year zero, and it just went from there. Skip 4 years and I’m a 4 year old living on the East side of Vancouver who desires nothing. Skip another 4 years and I’m 8, live in the West side of Vancouver, thanks to the hard work of my parents, and attending grade 3 where I discover the wonder of books. Skip 4 years yet again, I’m in grade 7 and about to go into high school. A scary thought for me not knowing what the hell was going on. Add 4 more years (getting repetative I know), I’m 16 and in grade 10. The halfway marker for upcoming graduation, something I’m looking forward to…high school sucks. Slow the clock down, add one month: my first DSLR camera pops into my hands. Photography is now opened to me; why I began to take pictures is something I still don’t quite understand. Speed the clock up a bit, and now add 2 years. Grade 12. The graduation year, one of those once in a lifetime moments, and yet I don’t care all that much about anything. I am now known for my love of photography, my involvement with the yearbook, and love of ultimate. Prom comes along. I go, eat, and take pictures. According to others, I am not enjoying myself. Bullocks. I am having the time of my life, prom just isn’t that big of a deal. Fast forward 2 months and we’re where I currently am.
I realize now, that I shall miss high school but will not look back and think about how special it was. Because it wasn’t. I recall my peers and friends telling me what a great photographer I will definitely become. For now, I think that is bullocks as well. I admit that I take nice pictures, but not amazing pictures when compared to professionals. There is just much more to being a successful photographer than just the pictures themselves. Do I wish to become a professional photographer? As stated before, yes, I do. I desire to become a professional photographer for at least a duration of 10 years or more. Can I? Only time will tell as there are others who are more qualified than I am and those who are equally as qualified as I am (assuming I am).
I am just lucky that I have been able to get the equipment to continue learning about photography. I am sure that there is someone out there who has never handled a camera, but has the potential to produce images that have amazing composition.
Life plays its cards in the strangest manner imaginable in this sense. It can deal you a lucky hand, or a bad hand. It can constantly deal you lucky hands, or bad hands. Surely there is a limit to how many lucky or unlucky hands you can get…right?