I saw an ad on Facebook telling us that getting kids into reading at a young age it very important. I couldn’t agree more. I remember being transported to another world as I hung off every word in “Adventures of the Faraway Tree” by Enid Blyton when I was about 5 or 6. My mother taught me to read well at a very young age and ever since, I get absorbed in books.
I have missed buses and trains due to getting so absorbed in a book that I forgot to catch them. I would “awake” for a moment and see the train pull away from the station and think “whoops, I was supposed to be on that.” Then I’d happily wait for the next one because it meant I could read for longer.
My father taught me the joys of photography at 7 and I became fascinated with the camera. I would sit with him in his darkroom with the red light on and watch those images magically appear out of nothing. I remember the first time I saw it. I was filled with awe, wonder and a curiosity.
I am lucky to have got the best of two magnificent worlds. There I was as a kid in the 70′s in my orange flairs and green flower power t shit, book under one arm and playing with dads old camera in another. I did this while Abba played on record in the background, and my feminist, barefooted mother would smoke hash and get stoned.
I’m lucky, because I didn’t have computers or video games to fill my mind. I had dragons, wizards, witches, magic princesses and fairies to occupy my days. I also had old photos, dark room experiences, an old camera to play with and then a small kodak camera of my own.My father gave me old photos to look at and I would pour over them, scanning every detail, until I knew that photography was going to be my life long love affair.
The old black and white photos were of my fathers old high school days. Many of them were over exposed, and blurry, but I can forgive him because he had not been taught photography yet. Once he went to college and learned the art, his photos became sharper, well exposed and more artistic.
The smell of the dark room was enchanting. I know, that’s pretty strange for a 7 year old girl to feel that way. I associated the strong, pungent sour chemical smell for a world of amazement that was about to take place right in front of me. I could see pretty well in the dark, and that red light gave me so much comfort. It was a light that said excitement and wonder. Amazing things happened when that red light went on.
Years later, much later, I became a photographer. I never lost my passion for books and stories either. I decided to combine my love of writing and my love of pictures into the one business. Now I write about photography and take photos for a living. And, I get to help people. A magic business for me indeed.
This developed into a monthly emagazine that my husband and I now offer to photography enthusiasts. And all these years later, I am still amazed, fascinated and so incredibly drawn to well photographed images. I could stare are them for hours on end.
So what makes you tick? Where did your love of photography begin? Do you have a story to tell?
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