When the Camera Started Winning

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what I want to be when I grow up.

Now that feels like a ridiculous thing to say out loud at 48, staring 49 straight in the face. You’d think by now I’d have it all figured out. Some clean answer. Some title I could hang my hat on.

But I don’t.

Or maybe I do, and I just haven’t wanted to say it out loud.

My camera has become the most important thing I own. Not in a material way, but in a way that feels a whole lot deeper than that. More than any guitar I’ve ever picked up. More than any piece of gear tied to music.

And that’s where the trouble starts.

Because music has always been a part of me. It’s not something I picked up along the way. It’s just always been there. It’s how I learned to speak before I knew what I was trying to say.

So now I sit here asking myself something I never thought I’d have to ask…

Do I want to make music, or do I want to make photographs?

And yeah, I can already hear the answer coming from just about everybody…

“Why not both?”

And I get that. I really do. On paper, that makes all the sense in the world. There’s nothing stopping me from doing both.

But that’s not the question I’m asking.

I’m asking which one pulls at me when I’m not paying attention. Which one keeps showing up whether I invite it or not. Which one feels less like a choice and more like something I don’t have much say in.

And the truth is, it’s the camera.

That’s the thing I can’t seem to shake.

That’s the thing I keep coming back to.

And I’ve been wrestling with that longer than I care to admit.

Because saying that out loud feels like I’m turning my back on something that helped make me who I am. Like I’m closing a door that I never thought I’d even consider shutting.

But maybe that’s not what this is.

Maybe music isn’t something I have to choose anymore.

Maybe it’s just something I carry.

And maybe photography… maybe that’s the road I’m actually walking now.

I don’t have a clean ending for this. No big resolution. No moment where everything suddenly makes perfect sense.

Just this quiet understanding that the answer’s been sitting in front of me for a while now.

And whether I’m ready to admit it or not…

I think I already know.

But, I’ve said that before.