I’m considering taking my first photography class. I’ve got a little extra holiday cash. My hesitation lies in self discovery and finding out that what I thought was talent turns out to be trickery and luck. COWARD. I think to myself that there has to be this massive iceberg of photography theory & technique hiding beneath the surface where I think childish thoughts of, “I can do that” backed up by family and friends’ hallow encouragement. I hope that’s not the case. TRUTH.
With our first kid on the way, this will be the time to do it. I suppose I’ll sign up for the class in the end, then look back and harumph myself for acting like a pussy. CRUDE. What really scares me is not so much pursuing other avenues of creative outlet, but finding another deadend that still leaves me with this pent up feeling of a need to express myself and one less road do it. ‘At the very least it will be interesting’ is what I tell myself, in my wife’s voice which has quickly replaced my mother’s. REASON. Let go, let the daydream of photographic stardom and fame’s validation sweep me away.