Photographer Schmatographer

So. I guess it is finally time that I admit something. It is not easy for me to admit things. Well. Some things I admit very well. For example. I do not experience any difficulty when it is time for me to admit that I am always right. However this may be due to the fact that you all are aware of this as a fundamental truth.

Seriously. My point. Admitting stuff. Here we go. And you may be wondering why I feel the need to admit what I am about to admit. It may already be clear to some of you. In fact. Many of you have described me in such a manner. I have posted information about what I am about to admit. In a previous post or two or thirty. And I have probably talked your ear off about it if you have spoken with me for more than five minutes. Still. I feel the need to admit it now. So here we go. I am going to do it. I am going to admit it. Once and for all.

I am a photographer.

There. I said it. Wow. That was tough. I didn't think I was actually going to get that out. Please do not make me say it again. It was difficult enough the first time. What. I have to say it again. But what if I don't want to say it again. Damn this is a tough crowd. Fine. I will. I will say it again.

I am a photographer.

And why is it so difficult for me to admit such things. It seems curious. Since. Well. Uh. How about for the umpteen reasons posted above. So what gives. Why am I suddenly admitting something so seemingly strange to admit. Something that most of you already know in some form. What is up with this whole stating the obvious thing.

Well. Maybe it is because I do not believe it.

Huh. What. You don't believe it.

Yeah. I know. But I don't. Not really. I do not believe it. Or I did not believe it. But I think I do now. I mean. Well. I just admitted it so I guess I must believe it. Maybe. I just might.

It is a considerable amount of pressure. What hidden implications exist in such an identity. Photographer. It is as if the notion of wearing the photography label someone implies that you know what the hell you are doing.

And sometimes I do not know what the hell I am doing. What if I suck. What if I suck at photography. How can I justify the label photographer then. Worse. What if I suck at photography. And I do not even know how bad I suck. In these not knowing kinds of situations. It is implied that everyone else on the entire planet knows how bad I suck.

It is like one of those dreams. You're running. Or you are trying to run. But it's like you're running through molasses. You cannot get here or there or away. You cannot run. It is not much different. Except it is. This is...uh...real. Not a dream.

She's no photographer. Whisper Whisper. Her photographs are terrible. What a hack. Whisper Whisper. I could take a much better photograph than that garbage.

Nevertheless. I have said it. Well. I have placed it in print. Uh. Sort of print. You get the idea.

So. I am a photographer. True. And tomorrow I will forget. Tomorrow I will no longer believe that I am a photographer. Tomorrow I will consider myself a half-assed hack again. And I do not say any of these things as a way of seeking out confirmation that I do not suck. I am not fishing for compliments. In fact. I cannot recall the last time I did any actual fishing. But I believe it may very well have been 1979.

So. What I am saying is this isn't about something I need from you. It is about me. Actually. It is about us. It is about our own self-doubt. Our internal critic. That voice that tells us that we are or are not.

So today. I am a photographer. And maybe. If I am lucky. Tomorrow. I will be a photographer as well.