i’m a what now?

“I’d love to include some of your photography in this.”

“This is a call for artists. I don’t feel like my photography is good enough to be called art.”

“As an arts professional, I disagree.”

There are moments in life where you suddenly realize something has changed. Slowly, step by step, inch by inch, but only in this moment are you made aware that it’s true.

I remember when it hit me that Austin was my city. I’d been here over a decade, had a carload of stuff in my trunk en route to my new place, windows down and KUTX blasting, when I noticed… I don’t have the GPS on. This road, this city, were home. My old familiar friends.

So I sat there, looking down at my phone as I waited for my date to arrive. Wondering, “when would I call myself an artist? What would I have to do to consider my work art?” That’s when the idea struck.

I got on the horn, pulled some contacts. I needed a piercer and I needed them ASAP. It was a lovely enough date but let me tell you I sprinted as fast as I could to the only open megastore just to get something, anything, that I looked like the image in my head.

I thought we could do it that night. It’d be an hour tops. Boy was I wrong and boy am I glad we decided to wait until morning. Adjustments, testing props, cleaning up, taking a break for the emergency vegan nuggets I keep for guests (apparently not wanting to harm animals doesn’t apply when the animal is a photographer who asked you to.)

My crew for the day was lovely, and even 26 needles later we were laughing and having a ball. It was the most fun I’d ever had playing with speed lights and gels, and seeing the wonder on their faces as the screen lit up with color when the room had none felt like the greatest magic trick I could ever pull.

And we made it. We made exactly the image I had envisioned in my head. This was a first for me, in any medium. It was when I realized, “holy shit, am I actually a photographer?” Up until then I always covered it in a layer of protective insulation. Amateur photographer. Hobby photographer. Casual photographer.

Maybe… maybe I didn’t need to do that anymore. I knew what I wanted and I had enough skill to execute it. My hard work had paid off. I was proud and so excited to see what the future held.

So I sent off my piece and a week later, “you’re in.”