Photographing What I Know

I can't remember who told me, or if anyone actually ever told me and I just heard it somewhere, but lately I've been thinking a lot about the idea of photographing what I know.  I've been in a camera slump for awhile, and every time I've picked up my creative tool to try to get inspired, I always gravitate towards the four-legged-and-two-wheeled love of my life, Boomer.  This has made me feel kind of guilty, because a part of me will always want to take pictures that Everyone finds Important and Inspiring, and I don't know how a thousand pictures of my dog could ever do that.  But at the same time, I understand the importance of photographing what I know.  Really, what more can one be expected to do?  

I know Boomer is an incredibly important part of my life right now.  I know he's teaching me what it looks like to be the butt of everybody else's pity, even though I don't want anyone to see him like that.  I know every single self-doubting or angry or negative thought I have throughout the day just melts away when I first lay my eyes on his squishy face and shaky dancer's legs after a long day, even if he did pee all over the rug.  And I know, because of him, I am working harder to push myself out of my own comfort zone and learn to grow in ways I don't want to, because I know I am able to, and I know it is good for me.  

These pictures might not mean much to anyone else, but they mean the world to me.  Every day I get to spend with Boomer makes me a better person, and every picture I take of him makes me a better photographer.  I can't help it if this is the phase I'm going through with my art, and even if I could I wouldn't change it for the world.