Last week a photographer looked across the table and earnestly asked why I do what I do. We'd spent the day together at my photography workshop in NYC and while I assumed that after an entire day of sharing what I do she would know the answer, but I was wrong. Clearly. In that moment, I realized I spoke about how and what I did to grow my business and photography studio, but I shied away from the why. For so long, the why was my thing. My private foxhole to hide from the outside world.

I let out a long, slow breath and told her I do this–photography, writing, teaching, blogging, creating–because if I didn't, a piece of my heart would disappear, simply shrivel away. I do what I do because it's my survival mechanism. I'm not me without building a pathway to my dreams. And though my dreams changed shape over the past eight years, the path building hasn't.

The journey is what makes me feel alive, makes me realize the flickers of my imagination can become reality if I put my mind to it. I've built a life around my passion and I'll fight for the rest of my life to continue to do so.

That's why I do what I do.