I never thought there would be much difference between being 39 years old and turning 40.
On the day of my 40th birthday, I woke up with a sore back, dry eyes and perhaps a little crotchetier than the day before and maybe all those aches and pains were there before, but it wasn’t until I was actually 40 and the “old jokes” came rolling in – that I realized that they were in fact, there.
My 40th birthday celebrations were terrific. I was surrounded by family who made every effort to pamper and indulge me. We laughed, we ate (a lot), we reminisced and at the end of the weekend, in the silence of a resting house, I was able to reflect on my life and just how content I am.
In reality, the only thing that changed from one day to the next, was time – but in the passing of those minutes, I fully accepted my life. All my flaws, my strengths, failures and triumphs.
My life as a photographer also settled. I was happy to try out new techniques, different visions and even going back to re-edit previously shot photographs. And even though I may suffer through the artist struggle of second-guessing myself; I am very comfortable with my work.
Sometimes my visions worked, sometimes they didn’t.
In the end, it all serves a purpose.