Yes, I am a photographer

I had one of those defining moments in my life yesterday. One of  those moments in which I had no question that I am a photographer. 

You see, I doubt my skills as a photographer. I'm still learning how to work my DSLR. I'm still finding all sorts of tricks and tips on working on images in Adobe Lightroom. 

And frankly, one of my biggest self-doubts about my ability as a photographer is that I am not out there, constantly shooting. Granted, southern California lacks the kind of dramatic landscapes that I am currently in (and I'm writing this from my hotel room in Mammoth Lakes, California, which is a great location to explore the eastern Sierra). But if I was truly as dedicated and passionate about photography as I say I am, I'd be out shooting regularly. I feel the need to be inspired, and to be in places that enable that inspiration. Dealing with the daily commute, living in a densely populated area - these do not contribute to artistry. 

But yesterday, I did have one of those moments when I knew I was a photographer. Because I believe that it's not the photographic equipment that makes the photographer, or how the images are processed in some photo-manipulation software that makes the photographer.

It's how one sees light. It's how one understands light and how it affects the subject of your photograph. Along with understanding composition, understanding how light affects an image defines one as a photographer. 

I had planned to do late afternoon photographs in a specific grove of aspen trees near Silver Lake, along the June Lake Loop. I had photographed in these aspens the previous year, and they were magnificent in late morning light. I was at the hotel, checking my watch, aware that sunset was not until almost 6:30, but knew that the mountains to the west of Silver Lake might block the sun in the late afternoon, so I figured getting there around 4:30 or so would be fine. Well, I was wrong. By the time I arrived at 4:30, the sun had already dropped behind the huge ridges to the west. I was disappointed. I drove east a few hundred yards, and saw some aspens to the right that still had sun on them. I stopped the car, and noticed that they too would be out of light in a matter of minutes. Then I looked across the road, and saw another aspen grove that was sparse, but the light was still on it. I quickly drove across the road and parked the car, and got my camera out. And in that short bit of time, the direct sunlight was no longer on those aspen trees. 

But I saw something. There was a light on them that was different. They were not being lit by direct sunlight, but they were illuminated - and I use that word specifically - by other sources of light. One of those was a huge cliff face over my right shoulder that was acting as a reflector. It was filling this grove with reflected light, and the aspens were bathed in this light in such a way that I felt a sense of thrill. This was more interesting to me, more photographically interesting, then the countless images I see of aspens back-lit or side-lit. This was magic.

And it was then that I did realize that, yes, I AM a photographer. I do see other photographers that can and do create stunning, breathtaking images. I see photographers that obviously are very knowledgeable about their camera gear and photo-manipulation.

But what it really comes down to is how I feel about my images: and yesterday, I was pleased. I knew what I was getting was different and unique. I was creating a photograph.