The trip down memory lane that became my earlier post Inspirations churned up some further thoughts on the nature of my photography. My style, I guess. I used to not be afraid of sticking my camera in anyone’s face, to the point where friends would often get annoyed at me (though they’d exclaim “good photos!” when the developed film came back weeks later). Up until only a short while ago, relatively speaking, maybe a couple of years, I have photographic records of every party and event I attended from beginning to end, and all the good memories they hold.
These days, weirdly, I’ve become shyer. The camera still gets a work-out but nowhere near as much. I feel self-conscious about the size of the lens and I hold back when I feel I want to shoot. Aren’t we supposed to get braver with age and experience?
I admire street and travel photography in particular, the kind where someone has captured the real essence of a person in a fleeting moment. But I don’t feel I have the guts. I’m much more comfortable sticking to my landscapes and animals, subjects that won’t talk back or question what I’m doing or think I’m weird for lying on the ground in front of them. Like this lil mandarin duck, shot at the long end of a 70-300mm lens. The little fella had no idea I was there.
So from here on in, do I stick with what I enjoy, or do I challenge myself to get out of my comfort zone?