How Did We Get Here?

Placing that image of me up there was easier than I thought it would be. Yesterday, when Henry, Sam, and I were out in the woods, I handed Henry my camera and asked him to take a few shots of me. That image is straight out of the camera. I slid the lighting knobs in Lightroom a little bit, and then hit the Reset button, telling myself to just get it over with.

The camera almost never gets trained on me, and I’ve liked it that way—for the most part. When I see a recent picture of myself, I find every flaw and find it hard to believe that I look like that now. It took pawing through hundreds of old photos recently to make me realize that, while I might notice that my mom had some grey roots showing in one picture or my dad had put on weight in another, I never wish that those photos didn’t exist. In fact, I’m thankful that I have them.