Somewhere along the way, my camera stopped being something I packed when I was going somewhere worth photographing.
Now I carry it because I’ve realized I have no idea what might be worth photographing until I see it.
And apparently, I see a lot.
A bird on a wire. A weathered fence. A flag blowing in just the right light. A flower growing somewhere I’ve walked past a hundred times. A ridiculously photogenic pumpkin spice latte.
An alligator hanging out in the retention pond behind my house.
You know. The usual.
Lately, I’ve been taking my camera with me more often—even when I’m not really going anywhere.
On walks. Riding around town. Sitting in the truck waiting for Michael. Wandering around the neighborhood. Sometimes I leave the house specifically to take pictures, but more often than not, photography just happens somewhere in the middle of regular life.
And I think it’s changing me.
The world didn’t suddenly become more interesting.
I think I just started paying better attention.
Before photography became such a big part of my life, I’m sure I passed interesting shadows, tiny details, weird textures, birds, flowers and beautiful little pockets of light all the time.
I just didn’t necessarily see them.
Now?
I catch myself looking at everything.
I notice the way light falls across the side of a building.
I notice when the sky behind something ordinary makes it look completely different.
I notice color combinations.
Reflections.
Layers.
Little pieces of life happening in the background.
I notice things that make me think, Wait. That might make a picture.
And sometimes it does.
Sometimes it absolutely does not. 😂
But I take it anyway.
Not everything has to be important.
I think this might be one of the biggest things photography is teaching me.
For a long time, I think I subconsciously believed photography needed an occasion.
A trip.
A beautiful location.
A family session.
A wedding.
A zoo.
A sunset.
Something that was obviously worthy of being photographed.
But lately I’ve been making some of my favorite photographs while doing absolutely nothing remarkable.
I took my camera on an ordinary walk.
I brought it along while running errands.
I photographed things from the passenger seat.
I found things in my own backyard.
None of those moments were particularly important.
But they were interesting.
And maybe that’s enough.
I’m learning what I see.
School has taught me a lot about photography. I’ve learned more about light, composition, editing, equipment and all the technical pieces that go into making an image.
But carrying my camera around during ordinary life is teaching me something different.
It’s teaching me about my eye.
What makes me stop?
What do I find beautiful?
What do I photograph when nobody gives me an assignment, there’s no client waiting for pictures and I don’t have to make anything at all?
Apparently, sometimes it’s wildlife.
Sometimes it’s people.
Sometimes it’s tiny details.
Sometimes it’s something old and worn and imperfect.
Sometimes it’s a fence.
And sometimes it’s a coffee cup that has absolutely no business getting a full photography session, but here we are.
The more I shoot, the more I can see little threads connecting all of it.
I’m drawn to things that feel real.
Things with texture.
Things with stories.
Things that might be overlooked.
Maybe that’s why the name Simply Seen has ended up meaning more to me than I realized it would when I chose it.
You don’t have to go somewhere beautiful to find something beautiful.
That’s probably the lesson I’m carrying with me most right now.
I still want to go places with my camera. I want new landscapes and cities and animals and people and experiences to photograph.
But I don’t want to spend my life waiting for those things.
Because there is so much happening in between them.
There’s a whole world between the vacations and milestones and big moments.
Most of life, actually.
The ordinary Tuesday afternoon.
The walk around the neighborhood.
The drive across town.
The bird that stayed still for three seconds.
The strange thing you noticed on the side of the road.
The alligator that apparently decided your backyard retention pond was a perfectly reasonable place to spend the afternoon.
Photography has given me a reason to look at all of it a little longer.
And somewhere in all that looking, I think I’ve realized something.
I didn’t need a more interesting life to have more things worth photographing.
I just needed to notice the life that was already happening around me.
So now the camera comes with me.
Not because I know there’s going to be something worth photographing.
But because I’ve learned there probably will be.
I just have to see it.
