My Love For Photography Essay

As a young child, I often transformed my grandma's dwelling into my own personal canvas. Fueled by morning cartoons, I would concoct detailed illustrations of the oddities in my imagination and intricate pictures of my family and surrounding. It was evident I had been blessed. I was never discouraged from my routine doodling either, just encouraged to channel that creativity on to anything but our walls. When I started public schooling some years later I was introduced to the scope of what art really was. Painting, drawing, photography-It was a world unknown to me then. The way we experimented with every medium early on was perfect for my inquisitive nature. For years I invested in what I now consider to be my craft, with the guidance of numerous

From a young age, I knew art was what I wanted to pursue. I’ve had a love of photography since I was a little girl, and my older brother, who was a photographer at the time, nourished this passion. He taught me how to use a camera before I had even graduated elementary school. I took every chance I could get to take photos. From the moment I bought my first DSLR camera in seventh grade, it never left my sight. My mother called it my ‘security blanket’ and everyone at school called me ‘camera girl’. It felt like a dream come true when I was accepted into the Digital Arts program at Stafford Technical Center; it was like opening a door to another world, one that understood how deep this passion ran and how far it really could take me. In Digital Arts, we study all types of art. Although my adoration for photography lives on, I ended up falling in love with graphic design also.

In the essay, “A Literature of Place”, Barry Lopez expresses the importance of nature as it applies to human life. Through this he states that humans’ imagination are inspired by the scenery around them. Lopez revolves around a central perspective; Ancient american literature has always been rooted in nature. By acknowledging that modern human identity has been interpreted by nature, Lopez describes how the landscape of an area can shape the structure of the communities and how it can help with spiritual collapse. Nature writing has often been summarised by being one of the oldest threads in american literature. With our nation's aging one needs to reflect on their literary past; therefore, Lopez insists that we find our path to nature that

I’ve been fascinated with with the arts my entire life, I was drawn to the emotion that can be produced without any words.

The romance began when I was four. I still remember when my mom dragged me, kicking and scratching, to the local Long and McQuade’s for violin lessons. At that age, I was more interested in making music with a purple dinosaur than I was with a wooden box. I have put thousands of hours of practice over thirteen years into taming its rough voice, and now, I am equally capable of producing roars of rage as I am sighs of satisfaction.

I am interested in drawing. My love for drawing started from a very young age. Growing up surrounded by people who were very creative and promoted free thinking and imagination. This really contributed to my passion for not only drawing, but the arts as a whole. As a younger child I was often told that art could be found in the most unbelievable places. It can be any and everything you want it to be. At George school I intend on broadening my creativity and love for art. I want to be able to expand my talent and improve

Making her way toward the sidewalk, she turned right on Doveland Drive. Without a car, Anita must walk two and a half miles to reach Forest Creek Lane, the predominantly upper-class part of town. As she walked, her stomach turned as if she had ridden a fast carnival ride and no matter what she tried to calm her nerves, her attempts were futile. When she reached the street, she couldn't help but stare in awe at the beautiful houses that lined it. Some had the latest car park in front, others had empty spaces while the owner was at work. Anita imagined handsome doctors carrying briefcases and housewives wearing wearing the latest fashions. Anita, at 22, still lived with her parents in the not-so-nice part of town, where houses where becoming dalapitated and the roads and sidewalks were cracked and never fixed. Always feeling as if she didn't belong where she lived, she often imagianed what it would be like to live as other

It was a cool September evening and my mom was driving me from Los Angeles all the way to Johannesville. As we drove on quiet, deserted roads I stared out the passenger’s window and saw nothing but hills with tall, dry, golden-brown grasses. It certainly wasn’t anything like what you’d see in pictures of beautiful landscapes but it wasn’t too bad either, I actually kind of liked it. Looking at those golden hills rush past my window somehow relaxed me and sent me into a staring trance, my mind traveled to other-worldly places where I could let my imagination run wild.

Eighteen is a frightening age. I feel as though I have already experienced a lot and come a long way in discovering who I am. As I enter adulthood, I finally feel in control of my own life. Along with this, I also understand that I am still very young and I have a lot of years ahead of me. I constantly find myself wondering what I want to do with the one life that I have been given.

Many people can pinpoint the exact moment that influences them to follow a certain life path. For me, going to college in New York and becoming a photographer has been an innate part of my life. I entered my first photography competition in the third grade and have been lusting over the big city longer than anyone can remember. Although I am unsure where this plan stemmed from, everything in my life has been geared towards this goal.

A few white-tailed deer bounded this way and that, while birds sang overhead. It was truly beautiful, but not as beautiful as the view that awaited us down the road. Just a few minutes down that path, right before it trailed back into the forest, I could literally see for miles. What lie before me were the fields of coffee on the sides of the mountain. Behind this were neighborhoods of cream stucco with their brick-red ceramic or bright, tin roofs. The cityscape was unlike any I had seen; instead of rising up, like they do in America, it sprawled out organically. The city mingled with the greenery in such a way that the homes seemed as if they belonged there. I was struck by how different the landscape of this beautiful country was compared to back

A world without photography seems merely impossible to the modern age humans. Photography is seen throughout our everyday lives, from the television, to smartphones, and on our computers, it seems impossible to avoid it. But why would we want to? Photography is a vision, a memory, a moment captured in time that makes it possible for humans to share these moments with others. But more than times than not, these moments, visions, photographs are altered, manipulated, and distorted to influence, and change the audience’s view. By analyzing the many methods the photographer’s ways of manipulating, altering, and the distortion of the truth of their works, one can conclude that not everything shown is accurate and often overlooked by the

“Photography can never grow up if it imitates some other medium. It has to walk alone; it has to be itself.” – Berenice Abbott.

Over this past year of my life, I have learned an incredibly important life lesson. Life is short. It sounds cliche, but I have discovered that this truth is the most important thing that one can uncover. Life is too short to waste it spending all your time doing something that you don't truly love. From my entire life leading up to my junior year, I had always played football, and that's what I was known for. If asked, all of my friends and family would associate me with one word: football. Because of this going on for so long, I didn't even think about signing up for football anymore, it became automatic for me to spend almost every fall and winter afternoon either practicing or playing in games. This continued all throughout junior high and halfway through high school until I came to a quintessential realization. All that time I was spending at football, I was wishing I was somewhere else.

Art. To me is something undefinable, what I want my art to show you is a piece of myself and a piece of yourself. Something we can all relate to; a memory, a song, a poem, art should make you feel something. Art is a gift, a tool we can use to hide beauty in ordinary places and things. I want to broaden my understanding of design and the world that art is beyond my knowledge and experiences. Because my love for creating burns so bright and deep within me, I am determined to find a career path that will allow me to explore the world of design and art every day. A number of art forms are endless and this seems like a daunting task to find just one path that can express the enjoyment and involvement I want to have with art. Throughout my life I have been endlessly drawing, painting, sculpting and creating--often times I feel almost cursed with such talent to create because the ability seems endless. I have taken a number of art classes exploring my passions as a High School Student and created many different types of works including oil, acrylic, and watercolor paintings; etching, embossed, and screen printmaking; charcoal, graphite, and pastel drawings; Sculpting with ceramics and plaster as well as wheel pieces. I find that there is few mediums I have yet to experiment with. I have become accustomed to Acrylic paintings as I have recently started to create paintings and sell them to community members. I participated in a local art fair and it opened my eyes to what art