A trip to where the sky kissed the sea

I had a surprise day off this weekend (I work every weekend), so James and I took a trip to one of his favourite spots from his childhood near Victoria Beach, Manitoba. It quickly became one of my favourites, too.

We drove out on a misty morning, but the sun absorbed the low clouds back into the sky as the day went by. We traveled along a curve, and the fog and clouds came back and lingered for a few hours. We hiked through the forest to sand cliffs and gazed upon the lake, which faded into the sky. We settled in and watched the fog drift, lift, and fall back down again. We walked to a pier and ate treats from a small bakery.

I needed this day to recharge. I feel refreshed and cleansed. I'm also thankful for days, like this one, where I get to fall more in love with the person I get to spend the rest of my life with.

I've picked up my camera again — this time, for me

I started taking intentionally crooked pictures of the sunset when I was 14. I took pictures of my Converse high-tops, and pictures of vegetation in my suburban yard. I took pictures of my sister, my dog, my CD collection. I took pictures of everything.

I upgraded to my first DSLR in high school. The Internet was my teacher and I learned about lenses and external flashes. I joined photography club where I learned about aperture, shutter speed, and ISO. Camera math and science were the only types of math and science I enjoyed. I dabbled into image manipulation and learned to create weird art from pictures I had taken. 

Paris, France. Spring 2011.

The first time I was shamed for taking a photo was on the school Europe trip. I had fallen behind our group in Paris as I was focused on getting a crisp shot of the detail of a historic apartment block. One of our chaperones turned around and yelled at me. I missed many shots on that trip as I was always hurried along at the back of the group.

I started to take my passion public. I set up a Facebook page offering my services to anyone who would want them. I did graduation, engagement, and family shoots. I was a second shooter at two weddings. This is when photography stopped being fun.

Venice Beach, California (taken with a disposable camera). Summer 2011. 

I found myself competing with strangers, as well as my friends who had also taken an interest in looking at the world through a viewfinder. They, too, began offering their talents and got more gigs than I did. With practice they became better than me, and I found my favourite hobby had become a chore that also made me feel like I wasn't good enough to do what I loved. 

In university, I joined another photography club. We got together and learned from each other's work, went on mini field trips, and built friendships. We learned how to process film in the school's darkroom. Taking pictures was fun again. 

Rushing River, Ontario (35mm film). Summer 2014.

As time went on and homework piled up, I stopped going to photo club. I put down my camera and it collected dust until I needed it for a trip, or until I reluctantly agreed to take a friend's portraits. 

MGMT at the Burton Cummings Theatre (35mm film). 2013. 

That's how photography has been for the last two years for me. I've hated it. I hate competing. I hate the pressure of producing perfect pictures for pay. I hate that the talented artists around me are likely judging my work. 

After a healthy break, I picked my up my camera again this week. I carried it around with me for a day, and took pictures of my surroundings and loved ones. I preserved candid memories with smiles that you'll never see in a posed shoot. I found beauty in a cat chewing on a shoe. I realized I could still find joy in turning some dials and pressing a button to freeze a moment and write it to a memory card. And that joy is why my camera will be my friend again. 

My future niece and sister-in-law. June 2015. 

I know it will be a slow transition, but I hope my camera will be by my side more often. I hope I'll remember to sling it over my shoulder before I walk out the door. I hope I don't get bogged down in the technicalities of the shots, but rather the moments I'm trying to hold on to. And I hope to never take a photo on someone else's terms ever again. 

My fiancé and I. June 2015.