One-Eyed Dog

Photography is a gentle way to see oneself alive.

Photography accommodates so much and lets us pretend for a short while. It’s work and love and somewhere between truth and beauty, where evidence won, while imagining the perfect, from a heart and head filled with dreams. Reality is a muddled, wholesome, and complicated mess. 

Photographers will often land somewhere between newsfluencers, interlopers, or public nuisances — appearing rough and wounded yet glad. Photography is the act of seeing compositions and making prints; it’s loving light and standing where each place has a signature aesthetic made from lines, shadows, textures, and hues.

There are cameras, and then there are instruments that reveal heartache long buried. I think we’re chasing understanding when it comes to our photography, and a high-quality rangefinder is one of those few cameras that has nothing to do with specs and everything to do with the heart.

Photography can strain a place because there are needs and wants, separated by so much, between more angles than people peering through lenses. The thought of a contraption aiding vision is ridiculous, yet optics have helped us since Galileo.

No fancy camera will make a photographer better. We’re merely sad souls with a high propensity for trouble, not knowing any better, and hoping to change many things. The luckiest ones sustain something enjoyable and strive for their best.