Photography has been part of my life for as long as I can remember. It all started with a Barbie Polaroid, followed by digital cameras, and an iPhone that somehow accumulated approximately 150,000 pictures. Apparently, this was never a passing interest.

Today, I work with both professional digital and film cameras and have built on that lifelong passion through formal technical training, which has naturally led to occasionally driving several hours because something interesting is happening in the sky.

Whether I’m photographing wildlife, nature, astronomical objects and events, artwork, or other objects, what keeps drawing me back is the opportunity to notice things closely. I’m naturally drawn to light, angles, color, texture, patterns, and small details that might otherwise be overlooked. I enjoy finding a perspective that highlights what makes a subject interesting or beautiful while capturing it as it exists, rather than as I - or someone else - thinks it should be.

Photography has taught me a few things along the way.

A couple of months after buying my first professional camera, and only about a month into a year-long astrophotography class, a total solar eclipse crossed the country. My husband and I packed up the car and drove to rural Arkansas. “No pressure,” I kept telling myself. (Yeah, right.)

One magical experience - and a few stressful moments of hollering at my husband about tripods, timing, and totality - later, I got the shot.

But sometimes you absolutely do not get the shot.

I once drove to Wisconsin during a rare solar storm to photograph the northern lights. I had the equipment. I had the technical training. I had planned the trip. And then I got so caught up in seeing the aurora that I forgot to remove a filter from my lens. I didn’t realize until I got home that it had left artifacts all over every single one of my images.

So much for all that technical education.

I thought I had missed a rare opportunity. Then the solar storm unexpectedly continued into the next night. I went back out, remembered to remove the filter this time, and came home with some of my favorite pictures of the northern lights.

I’ve learned that you can prepare carefully, understand the technical details, have the right equipment, and make all the “right” decisions - and still miss the shot. You can make a mistake and still create something beautiful. You can prepare for one thing and end up with something entirely different. Sometimes a missed shot isn’t the end of the story.

And sometimes you have to stop adjusting the settings long enough to actually experience what is happening in front of you.

Photography has reminded me that people, like pictures, are multifaceted and multidimensional. We can have multiple interests, passions, and career paths without any one of them making the others less meaningful.

Maybe that is part of why perspective matters so much to me. There will always be another angle to consider, another way to see something, and another decision to make. Not everyone will see what I see or connect with the images I create, and that's part of what makes art - and perspective - so personal and so important.

Photography has also reminded me that our worth isn’t dependent on never missing the shot, getting every decision “right,” how much education we have, or the titles and credentials attached to our names.

There will always be another decision, another perspective, another missed shot, and, if you keep going, another opportunity to create something you never could have planned.

And maybe most importantly, I’ve learned it’s never too late to reconnect with a passion, explore a different perspective, or upgrade your Barbie camera.