A Year In, What Does The Camera Mean To Me?

I get asked often where I learned photography. People want to know how many years I have been taking pictures, and the honest answer is that I picked up the camera for the first time a year ago. That shocks most people.

I bought my own camera and started my business within a few weeks of trying out my dad’s Canon Rebel T6. At the time, I was struggling with my own personal demons. I felt the camera was my only way to get my perspective out there. It was my distraction from my own reality. I used that T6 to teach myself manual mode. Within days, I was getting astrophotography shots. I felt such a sense of emotional connection to those frames. Despite all my growth, I hold those photographs close to my heart today. I pushed myself constantly, and still do. The camera body was a comfort to me. I felt vulnerable without it close at hand.

I was invited by a world-renowned photographer to study under him in Iceland a month after starting my business. I never imagined this being a viable path in my life. I knew once I got to Iceland that this was what I wanted to do in life. Yet, becoming an artist is the most difficult thing I have ever done. I put all of my effort into this. A lot of people don’t realize that. I don’t do this for the praise I get from clients, or even the attention. I do this because it has become a part of me. I would be lost without photography.

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The pictures I take have pulled me from the darkest depths of my life, and I won’t stop pushing until my photographs have that impact on others too. There are a lot of photographers today that have lost touch with the most important aspect of capturing frames: an emotional connection. Every photograph I take has pushed me to my limits. Whether I literally climb mountains or trudge through frozen wastelands. I have climbed glacial walls. I have frozen until I can’t feel my extremities. Every click of my camera has a lengthy story behind it. There is a time and place for photographs in front of a brick wall. I have never wanted to be that guy. All my photographs are real. I have seen the northern lights dance in the sky, and watched snow pelt the landscape below from mountaintops. I craft every image uniquely, because every moment in my life is unique.

Despite all this, I have had immense trouble breaking out into the eyes of the public. I want to help people keep a visual memoir of their lives, just as I have done for myself. My camera is still my biggest comfort. I’m not sure that will ever change. I have begun working my way into the market here in Winchester, and I appreciate every single one of my clients. Every single one of you has been great. For the people who haven’t discovered me yet, I am trying to change the perception of photography. I plan to start right here in Winchester. So, what does the camera mean to me? It is everything, an extension of me. I have something to prove to the world, and I won’t stop until that happens. If you don’t know me, I am Jacob Rudolph, and this is JTR Photography.