Dubious
I admit, this all started over a year ago, all because of a girl.
It quickly became something of a personal quest, a desire to improve my skills, to push my limits, to prove something to myself.
That point made, I sought to prove something to others, to do something for the community.
I’d be lying if I said it didn’t feel good to win the praise of others, to see my pictures on Facebook profiles and to be accosted by strangers praising my work, and the friendships I made during that time I owe all to the camera: my reason for being there, meeting them, getting to be around them.
When I started becoming a fixture, an expected and desired presence at nearly all events, it was an incredibly satisfying validation, to have won the respect and admiration of the community at large.
After a certain point, it wasn’t even a question whether I’d be at a tournament or not—I went tremendously out of my way, renting better and better equipment, booking flights out of my own pocket and driving all over the tri-state area to follow teams around.
Even after the season ended, I was confident this was only the beginning, that I had more to prove, to a different audience this time, and flirted with loftier goals for my hobby and the community I served.
When I started back up again, though, my zeal came not from needing to prove anything to anybody anymore, but mostly out of a desire to maintain my status and keep a streak alive.
At some point, I realized that I was doing this almost completely for other people, and not for me, that I was no longer driven so intensely, and that it had become a job or a duty.
There is a certain sense of symmetry, I admit, that when it stopped mattering to me, it was also because of a girl: one who made me want to put down the camera—my ticket, my excuse, my shield—and simply watch and admire for no other reason other than I wanted to.
8000 images and 40GB later, I don’t know what it means to me anymore. As I said before, I’m still looking for better reasons.
Guess we’ll find out in the spring.
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