Yesterday we here in The City Formerly Known As Hotlanta got snow; actual snow, and not the usual 27 tiny flakes that constitute an emergency shutdown of the entire world.
Naturally I grabbed my camera, eager to photograph this mysterious substance of which I’d heard so much lately. And then my stupid monkey mind woke up and started yelling at me that there was no point in trying to take pictures of anything because it’s all been done before, and there was no way I could do anything original. Because that is the point of a hobby: to use it to beat yourself into a bloody pulp of self-declared unworthiness.
I’d like to say that I eventually had a beautiful epiphany about my uniqueness as a person and how I couldn’t help but have a unique vision, but mostly I was just mad. So, determined to give my mind the finger, I just kept shooting until I ended up with some pictures I really liked.
Whatever works, I guess.
(P.S. For anyone who’s mocking Atlanta for what happened here yesterday, this article explains why we are not just a bunch of wimpy, skittish Southerners.)