An essay I wrote in school depicting "Page 217 of my 300-page autobiography". I figured page 217 of page 300 is around the time I received my Nikon DSLR as a gift :)
I sat at my desk without a sound, gazing at the intricate apparatus comprising of glass elements and mirrors that remarkably captures moments at the push of a button. It was at that instance I realized that cameras aren’t solely made for capturing life’s finest moments, but rather have an underlying use of creative expression; a way to trigger an emotion by framing a moment in life which would have been overlooked and possibly forgotten otherwise. As I stared at the screen containing previews of the images I had just taken, my brain filled with glee. I successfully had taken a visually pleasing photograph, and I wanted to do it again. Who would have known this camera would have been the start of a hobby that would consume every second of my free time? A hobby which I previously viewed as mundane and vapid; I grew up thinking photography was such a stupid profession. I found it ridiculous as someone labeled as a “photographer” could make a living out of simply pressing a button when a moment strikes. The simplicity of it killed me, and I never would have seen myself becoming enthralled with such a hobby. Photography was fast becoming my addiction, and I didn’t ever want to stop. My lenses were like cigarettes, each moment I spent using them was an extra moment I couldn’t live without them. I never thought my brain had the knack for art. The idea of painting and drawing simply wasn’t pleasing to me. However, this camera taught me otherwise. Art isn’t just taking a brush and applying paint to a canvas. In photography, art can be created with many variations. I knew I had found my creative niche. This was my art.
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