Photography: the early years

Amber M. Graham

Accomplishing the Extraordinary: One Frame at a Time
When I was fifteen years old, I did something that was completely unlike me: on a whim, I bought myself a camera. Not that the camera itself was a surprise. After all, I’m pretty sure I inherited the photography gene from my father. It was the suddenness of the purchase, I think, that was out of character. Indecisive old me dropped $400 during a 15-minute trip to the mall. But I’ve never looked back.

Since then, a camera has always been at my side. That’s about the only thing that hasn’t changed. The photography industry has grown in leaps and bounds; digital photography has, for the most part, replaced film; the technology of cameras has seen its share of progress. And the photographer? I’ve come a long way since that first Pentax Espio point and shoot.

Thinking back on my “early years” I find myself blushing remembering some of the subjects I shot and how I went about it. One particular instance remains indelibly etched in my brain: I was in my mid-teens, lying on my back on the kitchen floor, legs up in the air, taking a really bad portrait of my father. However embarrassing that is to think of, though, it was one of many experiences that helped me to grow as a photographer.

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