The Number One Reason I Love Being a Photographer

A good friend recently lost her father after his three-year battle with pancreatic cancer. Until his death, he lived in the Brooklyn home where she grew up, and she visited often. Now she will never return to her childhood home, and facing this reality is depressing for her.

A few years ago, my photo, “Dream Cone,” taken in Coney Island, returned unsold from an exhibition in Trenton, New Jersey. It has hung in my home ever since. When she first saw it, my friend admired it, commenting that it reminded her of her childhood visits to Coney Island, which was not far from her home. Her father’s passing coincided with her birthday, and I decided to make a gift of the photograph.

She studied the image and thanked me warmly. Then she followed up with an email saying, “You lifted my spirits in such a wonderful way. I am falling in love with the photo all over again.”

And the number one reason I love being a photographer: I love to bring joy into people’s lives by sharing my photos.


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