Sitting in my hotel room following the closing party, sorting through my bag of coupons, promotions, and swag, I find myself reflecting on my time spent at Imaging USA this year. This was my fourth time at Imaging, and while many things were old and familiar at this point, in many ways my experience with PPA's largest event felt new and resurrected the same awe and wonder I felt the first time in Atlanta. Planning my trip included a few choices that unintentionally began a recurring theme of reflections. Setting things in motion was my choice to stay up the street from the Gaylord at the Hampton Inn simply for the free breakfast and the Hilton points.
Reflections are intriguing phenomena. In the most basic sense, they are simply a reversed image. However, upon closer inspection, it becomes clear that even with only a few degrees difference in perspective, some details can be seen more clearly when compared to direct observation, while others become obscured. Perhaps this is why we often refer to deep thought and critical analysis as a time of reflection.
It's this latter form of the word that manifested on my daily walks between the Hampton and the Gaylord with twenty minutes or so at both ends of the day to think and mull over details of the preceding day's activities, or simply enjoy the sights and sounds of the lower budget side of a high dollar tourist destination. While my evening walks were marked by live music spilling out of nearly every venue and the eerie quiet of a seasonally abandoned wing of a local motel, the mornings were much more sublime. Blue wisps of hickory and maple smoke rolled out of barbecue pits, slowly adding flavor to that evening's ribs and briskets while that unmistakable aroma blended with sizzling bacon and pork sausage to create an olfactory mélange sure to jumpstart anyone's day. In the periphery, could be seen a variety of fauna ranging from feral cats to cardinals, and even a doe and her yearling. It was also in this time of reflection that the bulk of this passage was written, one musing thought at a time.
While I consider myself experienced with Imaging by this point, this year was full of firsts. Most prominently, this was my first time attending with people I knew; since joining the Virginia Professional Photographers Association (VPPA) in the waning hours of last year's imaging, I've found a host of new friends with similar interests. This year, thanks to a group chat set up by another member of VPPA, I was greeted to a whole new experience where finding and coordinating plans for dinner, lunch on the run between classes, or even a recommended food truck was simply a text away, where in years past I'd be playing my odds finding a spot to sit for a bite and maybe enjoy a chat with a new "single-serve" friend only to forget their name an hour later.
My week began with Sandra Pearce’s class on painting with photoshop. As a photographer, I’ve long been a purist – still occasionally shooting on film – and wanting to “get it right” in camera. As such, my experience with photoshop stems from a class I took in 1999, and I’ve long viewed it as an overpriced tool for curves adjustment and sensor dust removal. Aside from the year or so I spent falling down the aggressively tonemapped HDR hole, it wasn’t until the last few years that I began allowing myself to take more creative liberties with my work. Part of that was the discovery of several artists styles using photoshop as a tool for painting, and turning average-looking snapshots into stunning works of art.
Looking around Sandra’s class, I saw several other folks that I knew – not just familiar faces that I saw in passing at another event, although there were a few of those, too – but people I’d consider actual friends and could hold a chat with that goes deeper than “so where are you from and what do you shoot?” I couldn’t help but feeling wonderful, even as I discovered that my preferred trackball was quite possibly the worst possible choice for painting tiny, rapid brushstrokes and my forearm screamed for mercy.
As my week went on, I kept finding more of the same. Everywhere I turned was a friendly face. Every class I took, I found a friend. Every evening was a group gathering for fellowship and food where the day’s activities were rehashed alongside with anecdotes from years past. This wasn’t my first Imaging USA conference, but it was my first with a real sense of belonging. As we approached the opening keynote, that sense only grew in magnitude as more and more folks poured into town. But it was the Opening Keynote where things got real.
To say that Simon Bailey is a fantastic orator is an incredible disservice to his talent. While I struggle to find the appropriate vernacular to accurately describe his delivery of the opening keynote, the best I can cobble together is a meager statement about being one of, if not the best speaker I’ve seen in my life. I enjoyed every moment of his delivery. I laughed, I cried, and I glanced around to see who else was reacting when his words hit hardest. If you found me out in town and asked what I do for a living, I’d tell you that I’m a computer engineer for a nuclear power plant. I’d tell you that I’m a college dropout that joined the navy and saw the world before coming back home to a desk job. If you asked me about photography, I’d tell you that it was somewhere between an expensive hobby and a side hustle that I like to pretend makes money. I probably wouldn’t mention the fact that I’ve had a camera in my hand since the age of five, or that I taught high school photography as a long-term substitute for a semester when I was between jobs, nor would I mention the numerous awards and tearsheets I’ve collected over the years. I might tell you that I dream of one day becoming the next Peter Lik or Platon, traveling the world, photographing exotic places alongside real-life heroes and villains, with a style that anyone could look at and know “Buck shot this.” Simon’s words not only spoke to the part of me that needed a shot of inspiration and motivation, but they also reached into the deeper parts of my psyche that I keep firmly guarded and hidden from view. His words metaphorically handed me a mirror and said, “look at yourself, what do you see?” Simon Bailey did something nobody else has done in four years’ worth of keynotes. He didn’t light an inspirational fire that would fizzle out a few months down the road. He planted a seed and handed me a watering can.
For the rest of the week, I found myself on new footing. I wasn’t looking for new gadgets and gizmos to make my photography better. I was looking at opportunities and connections to make myself better, knowing that my photography would follow suit. There were classes and events, as there are every year. Of course, there was fellowship, too, but even there I found new elements that pushed me even further into critical reflections. As I ran across more friends from Virginia, I found them introducing me to their friends. Some of those were people I consider photographic idols or inspiration, trying my best not to show my starstruck feelings on my face. Others were people I’d seen on stage a few hours prior, with names the entire convention would recognize. The gallery and expo have always been my favorite parts of Imaging, but this year, even as I took a few moments to pose next to my own photos on display for the first time, the gallery and expo felt like footnotes to a larger paradigm shift that I’m still feeling. While previous years at Imaging may have left me feeling twinges of imposter syndrome, if ever there was a fish-out-of-water moment to be felt, it was much stronger this year than in the past. But, then I remembered that Simon Bailey handed me a water can, and that I have found a supportive new community within this larger population. I have never felt more like a “real” photographer than I have this year, and I know without a doubt, that it’s because of the community I’ve found in VPPA.