I am a beginning photographer with an uncertain and intermittent love for the world that I struggle to express. One way to tell the world you love it, as you might a person, is to hold it in your gaze. To look closely enough to observe its intricacies — the thorny paths of brambles, a shaft of light across a stranger’s face — and far enough away that you find it in its place in the cosmos, surrounded by light and debris. I cannot do this with my eyes alone. I need a lens. And a camera of course, and long nights to aim it at the stars. And long afternoons to carry it through city streets or along a quiet road to an iced-over pond where crimson-tinged grasses whip in the wind. Every time I lace up my shoes and drape my camera strap over my shoulder, I am excited. I’m excited to learn how to see.
The Zakim Bridge seen from the West End
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