When I first presented my Photography outside of (photo-hostage) family members I was asked "how long have you been a Photographer?"
After some deliberation I answered, "My whole life."
As a young child I spent many hours pouring over the family photographs stored in a round cookie tin. I would stare at the black and white photos of people standing beside their homes, their cars, vacation locals. They were endlessly fascinating to me. A moment in time forever preserved.
When I was older I poured over the black and white, and later color, photo's of LIFE magazine with the same fascination. Each photo was like peering into a time capsule.
I won my first camera in a hot dog eating contest when I was 8 years old. A Kodak Brownie camera. It was certainly much cheaper than the expensive equipment I lug around now--but I was over the moon in love with it.
I stalked everyone who came within the tiny bubble eye of that camera. I was a terrible photographer. Most of my pictures were headless bodies, blurry smears resembling people and lots of pictures of my finger half covering the lens!
I was given a Polaroid camera as a gift a few years later. The first version of a camera where I could instantly see my mistakes and after frantically waving the wet Polaroid picture until I could see all the detail, I would make the adjustment and shoot again.
Those were my beginnings. My school of Photography.
Hundreds of thousands of photographs later, I am still in love with the captured image. Tiny time capsules of life.
If I could choose a title for myself I would like it to be: The keeper of history.
One photo at a time.
@ Kat Graham