I didn’t realize how much I loved photography. I always had a liking for it, but it wasn’t until I got older how much fun I found I could have in doing it. It’s not as much taking the pictures as it is the process to find that shot and everything you have to do in order to get it. The weekend before last I went downtown to take some photos, just as something to spend a lazy saturday doing and saw off in the distance the perfect vantage point to take some shots from the city above. It was a parking garage, and since it was a saturday afternoon it was pretty much empty. I found myself walking the five or six blocks to get there as well as the steep climb to the roof, the crawling under locked fences, and the scaling down walls and four feet drops to get those shots. Close to half an hour, scuffed shoes and chaffed hands later, I had gotten the shots I wanted and made my way out of there. But the excitement I had at trying to get those shots, finding the perfect places and fighting through all those obstacles to get them reminded me so much as to why I love photography so much.
The fruits of my labor: