It's kind of a family tradition to visit Wurstfest in New Braunfels, TX every year. I've got a little German blood in me and I enjoy a little wurst, bier, and polka music. Last weekend I got to attend with my brother and Dad. I can't believe my Dad actually managed to get me into some of the polka music this year! Anyway, I saw this great cloud formation as I was leaving the music tent. Seeing a background for an interesting shot, I moved to where I could compose a frame with the ferris wheel from the small carnival. The wheel was slowly turning, intermittently stopping to board riders and the sun was piercing through the thin clouds.
While my Dad watched with a puzzled look I stared at the wheel, occasionally snapping a shot until just the right moment was captured. "You can shoot into the sun like that?", he asked. "Sure. Hasn't hurt me yet.", I said with a smile. "Why are you taking so many shots?" "Well", I replied, "I'm just looking for the right one." I was finally satisfied with what I saw on the back of my camera. "What are you going to do with that picture?", he asked. "I don't know. Maybe I'll hang it on my wall if I like it."
It was an odd thing to ask a photographer in a way. Unless I'm being paid to take images of something I don't typically have an ultimate purpose in mind. I just try to capture what I'm seeing - usually "just because." I must appear to be getting stranger to those around me as I grow as a photographer. In as much as a lot of people fail to see nothing special in the mundane, I find more and more that I can't NOT see something special. When I walked out of that tent, I didn't see this image right away. I saw the potential to create something, the pieces of an assembled puzzle waiting for someone to along and make them whole.
I didn't always see things this way. Five years ago now, I lost my Mom. Through my grieving process I stumbled into photography and managed to find some comfort behind the lens. Five years ago I wouldn't have taken this picture. I wouldn't have even noticed the elements and their potential to be something special together. Things are different now. While I lost someone I loved, through the suffering I found a new love and passion.
In loving memory of Barbara Connell