Here are a few shots from my recent hunting trip to Carlsbad beach. Instead of taking time to integrate them into a written piece, or essay, as is my typical modus operandi, I thought I would present the shots and try to let them stand on their own. These were taken with my borrowed Rebel 350D with the stock 18-55mm, if you are into that kind of thing.
Let me tell you about Leslie.
Leslie and I went to the beach last week. I’m still quite self conscious about being seen snapping pictures, so I decided to take my camera to get more comfortable with the whole idea. After all, I would have a captive subject right there with me. We chatted as I pulled out the camera and pointed it at the horizon. I worked a few test shots, adjusted the ISO and aperture to where I wanted it. I fiddled with the shutter release, the camera body is old and button has a tendency to stick. I got everything ready.
And then I turned the camera to her.
Immediately, Leslie let out a cry of embarrassment and covered her face with her hands. But after a moment her fingers slid apart and she peeked out to see if I was still waiting to take the picture, I was.
It wasn’t a bid for attention, not a demure display to provoke a compliment, it was genuine embarrassment overcome by budding delight over the compliment. It was the playful reaction of somebody with firm internal confidence balanced against genuine modesty.
Because that, at the core, is what she is, genuine.
Today marks our first entire year together. Around this time last year, we were dressed up as pirates and sent to chase visitors around the LegoLand parking lot as they arrived for a special event. We even managed to hassle a few celebrities as well. Leslie and I had interacted in the past, mostly a few half remembered conversations that she insists actually took place, but this was the first time we really socialized.
So we ran around, made up jokes, and acted ridiculous. Personally, I acted especially ridiculous, pulling out every dumb, half mad, character shtick I had in my comedy grab bag. Any person watching me that day would probably wonder if I hadn’t been out in the sun too long. Instead, I made her laugh, and, even better, she made me laugh. But she did more than that.
She made me stop worrying about the future.
The course of my life has been thrown into chaos several times in the past, sometimes rather severally. Each time it was related to a toxic relationship. And my secret ingrained fear of being alone would force me to keep that toxic element around far too long, or have me jump right back into an equally bad situation. So it kept happening.
Realizing this, when I came to Southern California over two years ago I vowed that I wouldn’t make that same mistake again, never again. So I was single for a long time. At some point the worry took over. I’m a terrible dater, I have almost zero experience with it. Now I was worried that if I did meet somebody, would I actually be able to ask them out? Would I be able to find somebody in the first place? I was happy being single, not looking for a relationship in the slightest, and even still a thousand voices whispered what ifs into my ear.
One day while dressed as a pirate was all it took.
She silenced the voices and filled my life with a genuine love, understanding, openness, and honesty that I’ve never had before. These things not only exist between us in the relationship, but also continually spread to dwell within us as well. It is an openness and honesty directed not only to the other person, but also to ourselves. The arete of the relationship cultivating us as people.
This first year has flash by in a heartbeat. The time we’ve spent together seeming to extend to the horizon of memory, and at the same time like it all just happened, or is just about to. Leslie, you have all my love. I don’t know where our journey is going to take us, but I know it’s going to be incredible.
This is only the beginning.
I have a camera now.
I’ve always had a love for photography, but somehow I’ve never gotten around to actually picking up a camera. Yet, the desire, the interest has always been there. I have a love for pictures, actual pictures, moments of real life hung suspended in a split second of frozen light.
Alan Watts has a speech talking about desire. In it, he says to ask “what would you do if money were no object.” Whatever you answer is what you should do with the rest of your life. Basically, by removing the fear of failure, you are free to find what you desire your life to be. I’ve asked myself this question many times, and I still don’t have an answer.
But I’m getting closer.
When I ask myself what I would do with my time if money were no object, if failure were no object, a thousand ideas spring to life. I want to write. I want to paint. I want to create, draw, get lost, teach, and travel. I want to capture fleeting moments and preserve them. I want to discover and share what I’ve found. I want to travel.
What I’m beginning to understand, is that all of those things are not mutually exclusive. I don”t have to pick one hat; everything ties together. Still, in that little private space of my mind I would hold an image of my future self. In that image, two things were always clear: I would travel; and I would take pictures.
Yet, I never once picked up a camera.
So a few weeks ago I decided to change that. I borrowed a body and a lens from my mom (Rebel XT and an EFS 18-55mm), and spent the afternoon in a bookstore consuming every scrap of information I could find. The next day I went out with a head overstuffed with technical information and my camera in hand. I tried to take pictures.
I didn’t know what I was looking for. I wandered, I took pictures, and I learned. The shots were competent, but boring and unfocused. It wasn’t until the second day I went out with the camera, that I realized that you can’t force a moment. You can’t force a message into a scene because you think it might be profound. You have to stop searching, and start observing.
The moments will come to you.
Weasel Tea 