Getting back on the horse is a lot easier said than done.

Maybe it was being single. Maybe it was being younger. Maybe it was fewer responsibilities, bills, and other the complications that accompany the joys of becoming a 30-something adult.

It's probably a few choice selections from all the above, but I don't see things like I used to.

I like to draw, I like to write, I used to play music... but ever since I can remember, I've always enjoyed photography.

I distinctly remember my mother yelling at me because I used all the film in the Polaroid when I was in the First or Second grade (after Second grade we moved). We had our little graduation ceremony and I was firing off the camera on the way to the school, used all the film, and my successful completion of this elementary grade was not properly documented.

My father had some Minolta SLR, and I'd ask to play with it any time he took it out. Changing the lenses, enjoying how close I could see things sometimes. Accidentally hitting the shutter button to take a quit picture of the speaker grill on the TV or the dog sleeping.

I saved up birthday/chirstmas money and got my first Pentax K1000 when I was around 14 or 15. Used and beat up, it was still mine.

Around 18 I really got into photographing the days and lives of me and my friends skateboarding. All the places we went, people we meet. All but of few of the negatives and prints were lost in a flood years ago. But around 18 or 19 my family got me a Canon EOS RT for my birthday. It had a pellicle mirror which I found to be priceless when it came to skate photography.

Anyway... getting back on track.

My point is, whether they were magnificent works of art or not, I have always loved taking pictures. Nothing is more sexy than the sound of a shutter firing off.

But recently I've noticed my eyes don't see things as they used to. Aesthetically at least.

I look through the viewfinder and it's just not there. Something is missing.

Now granted, I didn't just pick up the camera and see beauty in the world. I had roughly 10 years of practice before I consciously decided I liked photography. This past weekend however, I walked around my city for a few hours, and there was not a single thing I came across that moved me to find some way to shoot it.

Practice makes perfect... I know. But it scares me a little that I finally have made the time to get back into my art and now... it feels like it's gone.