I used to be afraid of poking my camera out in public.
I went to the Southport fair once with my dad, for a photo trip, and he took great photos of the waltzer spinning and the lights and all the hustle and bustle… and I just sort of stood there. I came back without a single photo.
I used to be so self conscious of everything.
So what did I do recently? I bought the fecking biggest, heaviest DSLR (cough SLT cough) on the market: the Sony A77 with Big Bastard Lens.
I’ve only had it a few months, but it has taught me a lot. My attitude has changed.
If I want to take a photo, god dammit, I’m going to get my obnoxiously large camera out and take one.
I learnt very quickly that very few people actually give a shit. I was panicking over nothing. As is the story of my life.
I still have a phone phobia; I am convinced that the disembodied voice on the other end might somehow hurt or offend me. But this is coming from the girl who made her mum go to the ice cream van until she was … um… 17?
It is fair to say, I think I’ve come a long way. I can see it in my photography, and other areas of my life… and the fact that I can now buy myself a fucking ice cream.
The moral of the story? sometimes it is better to face troubles head on.
(Hello, again, mr blog)