My interest in photography has really been picking up. Not my skill, just my growing fixation.
It started when I took Alex's camera and started posting photos for myself on this blog. It didn't take long before I realized that it only took a few photos before I started glamorizing my own life. Everyday life became more real, more worth it. That was a good stopping point. Photography for me was simple, satisfying, and selfish.
I started doing this weird thing lately that is become more difficult for me to explain. I have been trying to recruit models and setting up photoshoots. I even made a profile on model mayhem. The photos don't exist for me anymore to improve my life, they are existing for their own sake, in a universe that I am making up that exists outside of my world. I take pictures to go into a "portfolio". It is satisfying in a way I can't explain.
I would call it art if it were higher quality. Art is something that exists for its own sake. My paintings aren't even as artistic as this. I painted just to keep my walls from going bare. My photos go nowhere except maybe here, at this blog.
Slate magazine would advise that I slow down and address this question of uselessness by taking less pictures.