I knew it would be a risk. This whole adventure would go by that description. Only three days earlier, I had taken an even bigger gamble, tossing my cushy and comfortable day job of the past twelve years for the uncertain life of a freelance photographer. I had some idea of what to expect. I was neither new to photography nor to the idea of being an independent artist. Having spent the bulk of my twenties as a screenwriter and director, I was more than familiar with the idea of following my dreams and the joys and disappointments which would accompany such a pursuit.
Slowly, but surely, things turned around. A rebirth of my physical health coincided with the discovery of a new tool which would provide me with a reason to return to life. My new best friend, and lightweight Nikon D200 with a cheap but versatile kit zoom lens gave me both the motivation and the permission to step out into the world. It allowed me to again see people and possibilities. The images the camera and I created reawakened the artist in me so long buried by endless fruitless pitch meetings and polite rejections from heads of development. And while those early days behind the lens were notably devoid of financial ambition, the sudden and unexpected positive response I was getting from my new art form had allowed me to breathe again.
As the years passed, my skills developed as did my ambition. I cycled through a vast cornucopia of clients and visual styles. I tried on aesthetic approaches the way most people try on clothes at the department store and eventually found one that fit.
