Goodbye to a Friend (no, not that sappy)

A couple weeks ago I said goodbye to a racing friend: my Nikon D300 digital camera (I sold it). For the better part of three years, it was a pro-grade machine that I felt may have been an important catalyst in improving my photography skills at the track. It still holds its own in any sporting arena, despite the advent of some incredible new technology. 

But this isn’t about photography or cameras. It’s symbolic. You see, for as much as Photography has been a part of my life, not just as a practitioner and also a student of the history and the art as well as a technological expert (though my attitude may suggest otherwise, I don’t often call myself an ‘expert’ often) I didn’t use the D300 much for anything but racing. Smaller, lighter, though less advanced cameras dominate my personal work.

The point is this: each year despite being a full-time photographer – at least as an avocation – the most advanced weapon in my arsenal sits idle in the off-season. To sell this camera without reservation was not an indicator of my financial state but the willingness to part with what has become a regular racing companion.

My interest in the sport isn't what it was six or even 10 years ago. It’s amazing how a family changes the way you look at things. There are other reasons and I’ll talk about those in future pieces. But, I knew that if I were to let go of what I thought was vital equipment, then my sentiments are much more deeply rooted than simply needing a break.

This weekend, I’ll be at the Nebraska Cup, shooting with an older camera – the one I replaced with the D300. But looking back through old photos, I was surprised by the amount of decent work I did with much less equipment. Maybe the improvement wasn’t about the gear – but it was about improving personally since I started shooting regularly 6 years ago.

Perhaps I not only had enthusiasm for the art, but what was unfolding in front of me. I was more careful with what I did. I was more of…a fan. Not full-blooded fanatic, but the traces of fandom still ran through me. How do I know? Because for the first time in over 20 years I know what being a fan feels like again. I’ll talk about that next time.

P.S. - and for those saying here's another one of  your "retirement speeches," well maybe. But I'll have some salient points about what I feel is the state of the sport soon.