Crossroads

            Yesterday, May 7, would have been my father’s 72^nd birthday. As many of you know, he passed away nearly seven years ago, when he was 65. I have been thinking about him quite a bit lately, as I am at a crossroads in my life much like I imagine he was several times during his.

            He always had wanted to be an artist, a creator of photographs and of stories. He wanted to be a writer, and he was, in his earlier years. He was always a great photographer, and of course inspired me to strive to be the best one I could be. He did not consciously teach me anything about photography. But what he taught was that photographing people isn’t really about photography at all; it is about people. He loved meeting people, talking to people, capturing their smiles. When he photographed nature scenes, flowers, sunrises, etc., it wasn’t about the photography. For him, I believe it was about recognizing the wonderful and beautiful world that we have been given. Unlike me, he was a morning person, and that made it easy for him to get up and watch the sunrise, appreciating the beauty of God’s artistic canvas and creation.

            As I walked along the beach yesterday, and as I stood on the balcony this morning and watched the sun peek over my beloved Atlantic Ocean, I thought heavily about my dad, and how he always looked forward to a new day and what it had to offer.

            My parents were married in 1967, when he was 22, the same age I was when I got married in 1999. He had high hopes of becoming a globetrotting photographer and writer, and for a few years, he and my mother had some fabulous little adventures. They traveled around Montana, camping, meeting people, and even spent a summer working at a fire lookout! He took several jobs in photography and writing, as well as some small “regular” jobs here and there so that they could pay bills.

            When they started having children, they had both been in college. My father quickly realized that he needed something either very lucrative or something very steady, career-wise. He realized that his priority was to take care of his family. And that is what he did. He stopped going to school and took what was supposed to be a temporary job, learning how to repair gas pumps and other service station equipment. The job provided a steady paycheck, insurance benefits, and a sense of purpose. It was a job that had to be done by somebody, so it might as well be him to do it. For now, he probably thought, the art can wait.

            And that is where he found himself nearly three decades later.

            I don’t want this to sound like my father did anything wrong; he didn’t. His priorities shifted, and he did exactly the right thing to shift with them. He was the best father anyone could have hoped for, and his marriage with my mother lasted 42 years, ending only because of his passing. He was a provider, never letting us know hunger nor true want. I truly believe that he had no regrets whatsoever, but I also think he always thought of “what if” scenarios where he would have followed his dreams into journalism and art.

            I don’t know whether I will have children to provide for someday. That is yet to be determined. What I do know is that if I don’t follow my dreams while I can, I will always be left to wonder what would have happened if I had.

            That brings us to the current crossroads to which I alluded earlier. I have been thinking for many years what it would be like to be a writer and photographer. The photography, I’ve got. After shooting almost 60 weddings and meeting such great clients (now friends) and industry professionals, I can honestly say that photography is one thing in my life which helps me honor my father and will never go away. I expect to be photographing weddings, portraits, and nature for decades to come.

            As for the writing… I am not the greatest writer I know. I try, and I read, and that makes me better, but there is something missing. Some basics I never grasped, some foundation in the language that I didn’t pay attention to when I was young and hated school.

            I am enrolled at Georgia State University, where my bride earned a bachelor's degree two years ago (with honors, by the way; did I mention that?). Starting this fall, I am going to attend school full time, and will be working towards a degree in English, with concentration on writing.

            Please join me on this journey into the world of telling stories and documenting life in this way! It should be fun, and difficult, and frustrating, and rewarding!