I took photography classes in high school, and it was easily one of my favorite subjects. In part, that was because photograph class meant checking out a camera and wandering around school for an hour, but it was also a way for me to see things differently. I’ve never been a particularly good visual artist, so photography was a way for me to capture something and show it to others exactly as I saw it.
Interestingly, the only photo I ever felt comfortable submitting to a contest was one of a green oxygen tank. I looked at it, and it seemed like the kind of image you might see at a photo contest, so that was the one I chose, not any of the ones that I actually liked. Just a green canister with a canted frame, the contrast boosted in Photoshop to make it look extra grimy. I didn’t know what the meaning was, only that it looked like it might have meaning.
I didn’t win. It wasn’t a good photo, to be honest. I don’t know that I would have won even if it was a good photo absolutely packed with deep symbolism and artistry; photography was (and still is) a hobby, not something I pursue particularly seriously. But when I think back to all the photos I took in high school, that one sticks with me as something that was meant to represent me, but has nothing at all to do with me.
Anyway, here’s a drabble. And if you like what I’m doing, consider picking up my first zine, a collection of drabbles I put together and quite like. You can pay whatever you like for it, even nothing.