As a photographer, my lens captures the transformations of life invisible to the eye.
What I used to hurriedly pass by before I picked up a camera, what I thought were just four seasons, or just buildings or skylines I had become accustomed to as a native New Yorker transformed.
Sunny afternoons became more nuanced. Light speckled through tree branches. Shadows creased easily between buildings. Fences and yards exhibited geometric symphonies.
Childhood. Adolescence. Adulthood. No longer time sequences but part of a long passageway requiring filters and lens.
Bridges transformed our pasts. Buildings leapt toward our future.
I wonder why it took me so long to get acquainted with a camera.
After 37 years in a classroom, I think I didn’t want to forget how meaningful it is to shape other people’s lives.
My camera is my daily ticket into the unknown realities in front of my lens and what I see through it. And let other people see, too.