Why So Angry?

Sometimes, you take pictures, and at the end of the day, you just want to delete them all. And then run the SD card through a shredder, just to make sure they're really gone. You realize that your photography is mediocre at best, and the neighbour's kid across the street probably has more good shots with his crappy cell phone than you with your high end camera. You figure that with the money you invested in photographic equipment you are unable to use properly, your child could go to university until he's 47. You could drive the car you always wanted, instead of the beater you own. You know you could sleep in on weekends, instead of hunting yet another botched sunrise. If you stopped insisting with this bloody hobby, you would be the one in the pictures with your kids, and not just your spouse. You would pick family vacation spots because they're fun or relaxing, not just photogenic. You wouldn't ever have to worry about too much dust, humidity, charged batteries and enough memory on your obsolete computer. If you only stopped hunting after yet another million dollar shot that never comes, you could finally enjoy life. And then, as you convinced yourself that it's time to call it quits, to admit to yourself that you're better off with another hobby, and you grab your camera to put it away, you realize that you just can't let her go. You suddenly remember the good moments. The fun you've had. The satisfaction. You realize that photography and you, you're made for each other. It's been love at first sight, and it will always be love. Love hurts. Like hell. But it's still a beautiful thing.