The Kodak STAR 110 was the first camera that my parents ever gave me. I was somewhere between five and seven years old. Slim, simple, and most importantly durable. This was the camera that first struck my interest in photography.
It wasn't just cameras that peeked my interest. When I would visit my grandmother's farm, I would sit, curled up on the window seat at my grandmother's kitchen table for hours, looking at photographs of the family and friends who had come before me. She had photo albums and cookie tins full of pictures that she kept in the cupboard next to the cookie tins full of arrowheads and rattlesnake rattlers.
There were pictures of babies and grandparents, dogs, and the occasional barn. Cars and Uncle Charlie, who had been shot and killed by his brother for cheating in a poker match. Some body's youngest sister, who's unfortunate name was Skeeter.
I've had a long history with photography. And still, when I get finished with a session or weeding out photos, picking my favorites, my face hurts from smiling so much, I feel nostalgic, happy and humbled by the process. These are just a few more reasons why I love photography.