Fragile Beginnings
When I first decided to become a freelance photographer my eagerness (and perhaps recklessness) lead me into the office of Peter Bregg who at the time was the chief photographer at Macleans. My prof. at Ryerson had imparted to me the importance of talking to people who were successful in the field that I wanted to go into. It was good advice and I still pass it onto anyone who asks me how to become anything hard.
Peter told me how he got into the industry, showed me his recent work, looked through my portfolio, gave me shooting and lighting tips, told me to carry a camera everywhere, to go digital, to practice practice practice. He never told me that I was awful and that I wouldn’t make it. He didn’t even tell me to get better - he just helped me see that photography needed to be a passion - everything else would follow. I doubt Peter remembers me now, but that day he showed me a type of kindness that would keep me motivated and energized for years and years.
It took me a couple of months to get a digital camera, and even a few more to start shooting street photography, but I remember the day that I took this photograph (below). I was terrified to ask the elderly man. I went home and got my roommate and went back with him. He stood by my side as I meekly snapped two shots. These days I would take the photograph without a second thought, but somehow looking back I see the fragile beginning as a precious time.
