Today, my picture-a-day-for-365-days project, comes to an end with the final picture. And this time, it’s more about the experience of the project than it is about the picture itself. So yes, that means more reading.

But I hope you enjoy my recollection of the project and its significance in my life and potentially, your life, should you choose to someday do the same.

Enjoy.

Day 364/365

And finally… *drumroll*…

Tadaaaaa!!! I’m finished!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So why did I leave this for last?

Because this image, that time… It’s 8 minutes to midnight and I can’t tell you how many times that happened to me throughout the year. It’s late, I’m tired, I feel like I’m forgetting something but hey I’ll get to it tomorrow, but still not being able to sleep I look at the clock to see how late it is and how long I’ve been trying to fall asleep and suddenly it hits me like a ton of bricks.

“CRAP!!! Forgot the picture of the day!!”

So I bounce out of bed and hunt for something, anything, to take a picture of.

And I think that image, crappy as it is, represents to me what the project was often like.

I mentioned this a while ago, but a 365 project leaves you at a loss for ideas in a big friggin’ hurry. Especially when you’re a busy guy/gal. And I don’t know about other shooters who have undertaken this project, but I felt like I often forgot taking a shot until just before midnight.

But I learned a few things with this project.

First, as mentioned above, the stream of ideas dies very quickly. Like the saying goes, it’s 10% inspiration, 90% perspiration. And I wasn’t about to give up when my 10% ran out. I’m proud of that fact. I never gave up. It was never even an option. At the worst of times, it was a tedious task to take a picture, but giving up wasn’t gonna happen. Period.

Second, I noticed myself getting lazy on a bunch of my shots. I either didn’t have the time or on some occasions, simply didn’t have the inclination to try and take something I felt was good. I had good days, I had bad days. All of this became especially apparent once I got my iPhone. It became so easy to postpone taking a shot because I didn’t have a bulky camera to pickup. I could be done quickly.

Third, no question about it, I took an enormous amount of images that I would never have taken had I not been working on that project. Some were good enough to end up in my portfolio, but for the most part the project really forced me to observe the world that existed around me at that moment. You see the world around you every day, but it’s not until you raise a camera at it that you’re forced to really examine it. Understand it. Enjoy it. And as it becomes a habit, what happens is that even when your camera isn’t around, you see things as if you were looking through its viewfinder.

The camera transitions successfully into your subconscious.

That’s cool.

And finally; the memories.

At its most basic, a camera is simply a visual recording tool. It doesn’t lie. It doesn’t distort. It just says.

In the year that I started and ended this project, I went through two MAJOR, life-changing events and countless experiences in between.

Some were amazing, others were excruciating.

And I’ve heard it said about drawing on paper and I feel the same about photography; even when you’re not taking pictures of the event itself, the imagery you create becomes so strongly associated with those events that it’s essentially as good as having taken a picture of your emotions, your state of mind, your boredom, your anticipation, your happiness or your misery.

Those aren’t things you can take pictures of. Because they’re intangible from the camera’s perspective. But you capture them anyway. At least for yourself.

And yes, to me that’s invaluable. I cherish those images, whatever they’re connected to.

I have two shots that jump out at me when I think back at the whole year and as it so happens, they’re the two major, life-changing events. I couldn’t take a picture of either event, nor do I really want to divulge what they were.

But they’ve been forever seared in my mind.

A picture of my calendar: I was ecstatic. Relieved. I felt I could finally rest and live peacefully. The whole world melted away and everything in my future looked bright and filled with freedom.

A picture of my Honda framed by my garage door: I was hopelessly depressed. I remember sitting on the steps to my back door. No longer knowing what to do with myself. No longer seeing the point to it all.

I don’t regret either memory. They’re mine. No one can take them away from me. And despite them meaning nothing to all but my closest of friends and family and not even being all that great to look at, they’re incredibly powerful and meaningful to me. I can revisit my past with all of its ups and downs, just by looking at these two pictures.

I like that.

There are some photographers who still lament the advent of digital cameras, making it child’s play for anyone to take a picture.

Not me.

I cherish what we have. I love that I’m alive at this time in our history when all you need is a phone to record your lives and the lives of others with so much ease and frequency, and an outlet as simple, open and infinite as the internet.

So take many, many pictures my friends. Take as many as you can.

You’ll thank yourself for it later.