On Photography_001

I am a photographer. I fell in love with photography ever since I picked up a used photography book, full of magical images, from a street stall in the Village in New York City.It has been a long time, but I still remember clearly the images that were "the hook"…                                 As a matter of fact, I purchased the book for the sum of $1.98…took it home and was so taken by what I saw the I went back every day until I had a "library" of three books over the mantle of the gigantic fireplace in my tiny, thrice subdivided Village apartment. You know what the funniest thing is: Those three books are sitting on my bookshelf as I write this; furthermore, I keep them within easy reach so I can get both a jolt and a reminder about why I do what I do.  
Photography is a way to connect to the outer world. It is also a projection of that which is whithin, that wich my inner eye selects to see…and share with the world.
In spite of the fact that a portion of photography is a technical endeavor, for this photographer it is primarily an intuitive process…i have to be constantly reminding myself to "check the settings!", "is the right filter on?", how's the battery?"…I force myself to do those things for I know that ignoring them could, very likely, ruin the shot. 
I accept the fact that no image will be perfect, and I try to make the imperfections part of the process, to integrate them if you will, into the end result - whatever that means to a specific image.
I am reminded of a story I read - here is an excerpt;

Of the two apprentices, Boso was the most skilled, the most expert thrower. His pots were always straight, symmetrical, and perfectly formed. He had received much praise and encouragement from the Master. But gradually the favorable comments became more infrequent. 
One day, the Master stopped at Boso's wheel.
   "Your pots are too straight and perfect," he said.
   "How can I change them?" asked Boso.
   "Stop trying so hard! Relax! Let the clay do what it wants to do."
Boso then began to work at loosening his style. He encouraged irregularities and saw to it that each piece had something a little out-of-round or off center. He was sure that he was making progress, but for a long time there was no comment from the Master. But finally the Master stopped again at Boso's wheel.
   "Your pots are too crooked, too eccentric," he said.
   "But how shall I change them now?" asked Boso.
   "Stop trying so hard! Relax! Let the clay do what it wants to do."

It is the same with light…..
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rem