I was sitting on the steps on the MET a few Sundays ago reading Georgia Heard to the soundtrack of live cello music in front of me. I met the most interesting guy. We struck up a conversation that led to the question, “Are you a writer?”
Am I a writer?
I immediately trip over my words. [All the while, wanting to shout with all the conviction of Katherine Bomer and Mary Ehrenworth combined, Why YES!! Yes I am! I am a writer!] Instead, I stumble through a “yes, no… well.. kind of. I think…”
“Well. Have you written anything you are proud of?” (perfect response.)
“Then you are a writer.” (perfect again. ) First of all, who has these moments on the steps on the Met while they are reading Georgia Heard to the soundtrack of live cello music in front of them? 🙂
We then merged onto the topic of photography. “Are you also a photographer?” he asks. (Seriously, stranger, really? Are you a mind reader specializing in insecurities?)
In this post, I could explore my bashful identity as a “picture taker.” But I’m not. I’m not going to ask why other identities are so certain. (Are you a teacher? YES! Are you a New Yorker? Absolutely. Do you cook? well… Are you an artist? It depends…) Seriously. What declaration are we waiting for? And from whom?
But. That answer is not what I’m looking for today.
Today, I’ve decided to own it. After all, if having pieces you are proud of is what makes you an artist, then I’d like to become a photographer today. 🙂 There are a few pictures I am proud of, and I think I’m ready to share them with you, whoever you are. They all have 1 thing in common. Every person, moment, or image stopped me in my tracks. And they were taken with my iPhone. Thank you, Apple.