Why Photography?

I can still remember the weight of my dad's Minolta film camera in my hands when I was just six years old. Remarkably, I still have some of those very first photographs. At the time, it wasn't a "career path" or a serious pursuit; it was simply a way to have fun and a meaningful way to connect with my father.

I took many pictures at school, on school trips, family outings, just for fun. One particular memory stands out: a photo I shot from a hotel window in Philadelphia. I remember staring down at a figure on the sidewalk, trying to discern if it was even a person. What struck me most wasn't just the subject, but the indifference of the crowd—no one stopped or even glanced down. They just kept walking, while I remained fixed on that one frozen moment.

Streets of Philly 1983 © 2026 Janet Davis

I continued to shoot for years, but the true "why" didn't click until my late twenties when I rediscovered a series of images I’d first seen as a child. They had fascinated me then, and I found they held that exact same power over me two decades later. That is the enduring magic of a photograph—its ability to suspend time. I’ve included those influential images here (with full credit to the original photographers).

Tomoko Uemura in Her Bath (1971) from the Minimata series by W. Eugene Smith

The Terror of War - Napalm Girl (1972) by Nick Ut

Seeing those works again was the catalyst I needed to get serious. While I may never be a war photographer like James Nachtwey, or mount massive productions like Gregory Crewdson or Cindy Sherman, I find myself asking: Will someone look at my work and be moved? I think the answer is yes. And in a way, that’s all that matters. My goal isn't fame; it’s to encourage others to pause. I want my images to inspire someone to look beneath the surface, to explore their own town with the eyes of a tourist, or to simply think a little deeper about the world around them.

Beyond the final image, there is the feeling of being behind the lens. When I’m "in the zone," I find a sense of presence I haven’t found anywhere else. I’m happy to wait—for the light to hit just right, or for the wind to finally settle—for as long as it takes. In fact, anyone brave enough to travel with me should probably bring a book; if you don't have a camera in your hand, you'll definitely need a healthy dose of patience!

So, if you ever see someone standing perfectly still on a street corner for twenty minutes staring at a shadow—don't worry, it's just me. I’m just waiting for the magic to happen. I’ve been known to stay so still that I’ve caused a bit of concern for the local authorities, but I promise it's all for the sake of the shot! I hope you enjoy the moments I’ve managed to catch so far.

Alaskan Sunset © 2003 Janet Davis