Sri Lanka, Writing

For Me

It’s too easy for me to forget why I love photography, it’s too easy too fall into a rut of comparison – where someone else always has a better picture.

Photography has always felt like a deep calm breath. It’s a way of not holding everything in your life together, letting it all go for a minute. You have your camera, your settings and you have control. The ability to look at something; through your eyes and save it. Or share it. Show it to strangers on the internet. Or just keep it for yourself as your desktop background.

I remember during exams, before getting back into the hell that is an incomprehensible journal article which I should have read a week ago; a half a minute of looking at my desktop background – at a picture I loved for myself, not anyone else – was enough. It would keep the panic away, and just help so much.

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My friend tossed this cluster of flowers onto a barrel of old oil at an abandoned railway station. She makes good choices in life.

I haven’t forgotten the feeling when I first took a focused picture on manual settings – a picture with decent light that wasn’t shaky. That feeling of pulling the prints out of the white kodak envelope, and realising that my settings were alright.

It felt great.

It still does (Minus the kodak envelope).

I just need to focus on that feeling and not the rest of them.

 

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