I've been shooting for 5 years now. During those 5 years I've tried a lot of techniques, admired many styles of work and struggled to find my own voice. When I first began taking photographs, I wanted my work to be grand and overwhelming. I wanted to fight back against what I imagined to be a boring and tedious life. I wanted it to feel like you were sky-diving off the Empire State building when you saw it. I wanted it to take your breath away.
The word inspiration has two meanings. The more common meaning is to feel moved to do work, especially creative work. It's a glimmer of something brilliant in an otherwise dull display. The second, less common, definition of inspiration is to inhale--literally to take breath into your chest.
My life crept up on me. My own, humble life. It is full of regular stuff like putting my daughter to bed, commuting to work or sharing a bottle of wine with my friends. It isn't epic .It's more than that. It's sustaining, valuable and life-giving. I am breathing in.
Real life doesn't take our breath away very often, but it is inspiring. This kind of inspiration isn't overwhelming or grand at all. We do it all the time, almost never noticing that we are forever inspiring. Our breath that carries us through life. It purifies our bodies. It allows us to sing and to speak words like 'I love you' and 'I'm sorry'. I want my work to have this sort of inspiration- to be full of humility and ripe with plain life. I don't want my work to take your breath away anymore, I want it to give you room to breathe more deeply.