Stay Together for the Kids

My boss Lindsay (though I hate to refer to her as a "boss") and I went to Kiddieland today with her soon-to-be two-year-old son Odin. We just went for the hell of it. I would take this opportunity to, in a detailed fashion, report the various tasks associated with my job as a commercial photographer's intern, but they are sort of all over the place. I have to say, I prefer it this way.

Kiddieland is an amusement park that will soon be no more. I suppose an amusement park is a prime location for interesting photos. Photojournalists would drool at the opportunity... so many great little scenes. But, I sort of mulled around with my camera in my incognito outfit, feeling like a detached, disinterested spectator with no family, no little ones to entertain... and I didn't really have much motivation to get close to anyone or reproduce intimate moments. I wasn't up to the challenge. Early on, I sat down at a picnic table and realized that I just didn't fit in. I walked away with a few desolate frames that serve to mimic how I felt... a child stuck in a teenager's body stuck in an adult's life.

And then tonight, after attending a social event for local artists with Lindsay, I realized that I face the same sort of detachment when thinking about myself as a photographer. Where do I fit in? I always wanted to be an artist of some sort, from the time I was young... but now I find myself in an field that can often be much more about socializing properly than about establishing a creative voice. I don't want to produce work that looks and feels so synthetic. I don't have the vision or skill to be a storyteller in the serious sense. I just want to create images that are personal and meaningful.

Maybe I just need to exist and let the rest of the pieces fall where they may.