Why am I a Photographer?
This question confounds me. Saying I need to shoot like I need to breathe sounds lachrymose. Meeting people and exploring the world can be satisfied by a hundred other pursuits. So why am I a photographer?
The tragedy of beauty is its transience–lovers, landscapes, all of 'this' that surrounds us. We change, we disappear... poof. We arrive as pale and shellshocked bundles of innocence, and entropy has already wound up for the first pitch. This isn't wallowing in macabre romanticism but recognition of a simple fact that smacks me upside the head from time to time: life is short!
Photography's allure is being in the middle of it all, capturing these bits of ephemera before they evaporate. It's wildly naive, but I believe we can hold on to a little beauty while we're along for the ride.
Besides, I'd make a terrible brain surgeon.