Stephanie Brim
Mental Experimental.
If you'll bear with me through this caffeine-induced lucid moment, I may say something that's actually somewhat close to truth. Bear in mind that I've been doing this for less than a year and a half now. I've used four different mediums, had more cameras than I really thought necessary to find my kit, and taken numerous terrible photographs that I've actually put up in a gallery for all to see.
I think that I can call myself a photographer. An amateur, anyway.
It's taken me quite a while to realize what that word really means. I capture memories on tiny strips of magical plastic in brilliant color and black and white. I capture emotion and put it on paper. This is important. This is vital. Without photographs we would sometimes forget the littlest yet most important things. Photographs allow us to look back on these events and feel again what it was to stand there, camera primed, waiting for that shot. Or, by chance, tripping the shutter at just the right time in just the right place to capture a moment that almost went by. And, if we do things right, it allows us to give others the same chance to feel what we felt at that mere moment in time.
Things go by so fast these days. Computers bring us all the information we could ever need in mere seconds. Cars get us to our destinations faster than our grandfather's grandfathers ever thought possible. Phones allow us to talk to anyone in the world without a delay. It is a rare moment when people stop this fast life and take the time to just revel in the fact that, with a photograph, we can stop time.
This is what I set out to do every time I go out with a camera. I go to capture the moment, stop time with a mere click of a shutter, and forever hold that memory in my hand. I go with the idea that what I do is a vital and necessary contribution to society. I go with the intention of taking a photograph that will evoke emotion. I go with the nerve to take a photograph that will stir memories, good or bad, in anyone who sees it. I go with the idea that, without photographers, people would continue on in their fast-paced urban lives without taking the time to see the beautiful things.
It's a lot like writing, really. To me, photography and writing are very much the same. With both you are trying to capture emotion and memory on paper. With both you are trying to evoke emotions in the person who views the art. In my mind, if I can't do that I have failed miserably.
On the whole, I've learned more about photography than I ever imagined possible by going out with the mindset that I am doing something important when I have a camera in my hands. I have learned that the medium you work on really doesn't matter. Times change and, thus, so do we. As long as we keep doing this wonderful, almost magical thing, we accomplish our mission as photographers. The digital VS film debate doesn't matter. The rangefinder VS SLR debate doesn't matter. It all comes down to one thing: we capture things that no one else sees exactly the same way we do. We challenge others to see our view of things with our visual art. We capture memory and emotion that could be lost if not for us being there at the right moment. Who took it, what took it...these things don't matter as much as the fact that the photograph was taken.
Nothing matters as much as the photographs we make. This is photography. And this is what I try to do.
I think that I can call myself a photographer. An amateur, anyway.
It's taken me quite a while to realize what that word really means. I capture memories on tiny strips of magical plastic in brilliant color and black and white. I capture emotion and put it on paper. This is important. This is vital. Without photographs we would sometimes forget the littlest yet most important things. Photographs allow us to look back on these events and feel again what it was to stand there, camera primed, waiting for that shot. Or, by chance, tripping the shutter at just the right time in just the right place to capture a moment that almost went by. And, if we do things right, it allows us to give others the same chance to feel what we felt at that mere moment in time.
Things go by so fast these days. Computers bring us all the information we could ever need in mere seconds. Cars get us to our destinations faster than our grandfather's grandfathers ever thought possible. Phones allow us to talk to anyone in the world without a delay. It is a rare moment when people stop this fast life and take the time to just revel in the fact that, with a photograph, we can stop time.
This is what I set out to do every time I go out with a camera. I go to capture the moment, stop time with a mere click of a shutter, and forever hold that memory in my hand. I go with the idea that what I do is a vital and necessary contribution to society. I go with the intention of taking a photograph that will evoke emotion. I go with the nerve to take a photograph that will stir memories, good or bad, in anyone who sees it. I go with the idea that, without photographers, people would continue on in their fast-paced urban lives without taking the time to see the beautiful things.
It's a lot like writing, really. To me, photography and writing are very much the same. With both you are trying to capture emotion and memory on paper. With both you are trying to evoke emotions in the person who views the art. In my mind, if I can't do that I have failed miserably.
On the whole, I've learned more about photography than I ever imagined possible by going out with the mindset that I am doing something important when I have a camera in my hands. I have learned that the medium you work on really doesn't matter. Times change and, thus, so do we. As long as we keep doing this wonderful, almost magical thing, we accomplish our mission as photographers. The digital VS film debate doesn't matter. The rangefinder VS SLR debate doesn't matter. It all comes down to one thing: we capture things that no one else sees exactly the same way we do. We challenge others to see our view of things with our visual art. We capture memory and emotion that could be lost if not for us being there at the right moment. Who took it, what took it...these things don't matter as much as the fact that the photograph was taken.
Nothing matters as much as the photographs we make. This is photography. And this is what I try to do.
