A year and a half ago I purchased a new camera.
I felt like I had sufficiently outgrown the one I had and I was ready to take the leap to the beautiful DSLR camera I had deliberated over and saved up for.
With my purchase came some high expectations.
I envisioned the images that the new camera would produce: they would be breathtaking, just like the ones I saw from my photographer friends.
When the new camera finally arrived, I immediately started shooting with confidence. In my mind, there was no effort involved in producing beautiful pictures. I was confident that the new technology would produce out of this world photography.
To my surprise, the first pictures I downloaded weren’t anything fancy. The second batch wasn’t so hot either…nor was the twentieth.
For some reason the crisp clarity wasn’t miraculously making it’s debut.
I gradually realized that I was going to have to really work with this camera.
Since I loved my new found hobby so much, I was willing to put in the hours it took to get on the right path. I learned how to work the bells and whistles and shoot exclusively in manual mode. I watched tutorials, I asked other photographers questions, and I read books to help build on the base I had.
I’m still climbing the learning curve every time I take my camera out. I rarely get shots that I “love.” I am the most critical of my own work, and I know I have a long way to go before I am consistently producing images that I am proud of. There is always something new to reach for and it is overwhelming at times, but I don’t mind because I am gradually growing into my expectations.
I am always up for new challenges in photography. My friend and I ventured downtown to experiment with some night time images. The shots I loved most are far from professional, but I was on cloud nine playing with city lights and movement (and non-wiggly children).
I could have photographed the gumball machines all night.
Favorite of the night.