My dad walks into my room as I'm trying to get a few assignments finished and asks me to take out the trash cans. As you can imagine (or picture vividly if you know my dad), this was not a suggestion nor was it an arguable request. My fate decided, I stall a few minutes and, hoping to make the best out of the trip, sling my not-so-sleek, heavy, film Nikon FA over my shoulder and trudge outside. The sun is low and, of course, at the perfect spot in the sky to get its rays right through the only gap in the trees and blind me. I pull out the two yard wastes, recycle, and classic trash to the curb. Before going inside I look around for something beautiful, something that Shlenker, my photo teacher, will commend me for. In a bad mood, I see nothing worth remembering. I sit on the curb and think; then, turning to the stupid trash can to my left, I raise my camera, focus, check the lighting, and, pressing gently on the little silver button, hear the satisfying open and close of my shutter.
I ended up loving the image and spent quite a bit of time making a 9x7 fiber print. Simplicity is beautiful.
