text: Lisa stared at the screen, the image of the camera staring back at her. She always enjoyed photography and always wanted to do more. Her friends always told her she had a good eye, and her Instagram posts of landscapes and waterways always garnered lots of likes. But those were taken with her five-year-old iPhone, and she knew she could do much better if she only had a real camera, which is why she found herself staring at the online camera store’s website. She had lost her job recently which was a blessing in disguise, for sure. She hated her boss, and she was going nowhere there anyway. Pigeon-holing is what she thought they called it. Stuck in a job because she was good at it and there was no one else readily available to do it. Unemployment and the small severance package she received were helping her hold her own, but she was at a crossroads in her life. She didn’t want to go back to what she was doing, but it paid the bills, handsomely. On the one hand, she debated in her head, she liked the steady stream of income a regular job paid, as well as the benefits like the 401(k) and health insurance. On the other, she hated being tied down, working for someone who didn’t respect her and always asked her to do menial tasks, like ordering office supplies when he knew full well there was a whole department set aside to do just that. Lisa needed to branch out, to let her creative side blossom, to stop doing the same thing repeatedly. She knew that and yet she held back. Before surfing to the camera shop website, she had been posting her resume on various job sites and applying to jobs that looked interesting. She had been doing this for months, to no avail. She had interviews, sure, and sometimes even second ones. She was encouraged and discouraged so often that it became a running joke in her head that it was not a matter of if, but when, they would turn her down. She had the skills, she had the experience, but she also had her age to contend with. Ageism is against the law, but it still exists. We received many applicants for this role and although we were impressed with your credentials, we have decided to move forward with candidates who better meet the requirements of this position. Or some other bullshit like that. And that’s even if they bothered to let you know. Ghosting interviewees was becoming more and more common, and she found it irksome, to say the least. Her attention turned back to the camera. It was a high-end, brand-name one, one which she had been eyeing for a long time. She had added it to her cart and the orange “1” on the edge of her in the upper right-hand corner of the screen taunted her. BUY ME it screamed at her. She had read countless reviews on this website, none of which she believed, the cynicism she embraced in things such as customer reviews evident. Probably the seller’s uncle or daughter or friend. She read countless reviews on other websites, from photography magazines to consumer publications to blogs and vlogs. They all said pretty much the same thing. This was an excellent camera and while not top of the line, it would be sufficient for all but the most demanding photographers. Lisa closed the cover of her laptop, got up, and paced around the room. She went down to the kitchen and made herself a coffee and a snack. She called her friend Ruth, her always dependable friend. She knew her since middle school and Ruth was Lisa’s biggest cheerleader. Although she moved halfway across the country after getting married, she was always just a text or a phone call away. “Get it, Lisa,” Ruth said almost immediately after being posed the question of whether Lisa should make this purchase. “You’ve always wanted to do photography!” she said encouragingly. “Ruth, it is so expensive,” Lisa protested, weakly. “Honey, you are unemployed, and hate what you do when you are working,” Ruth continued, taking a breath. “What better chance than now to pursue your lifelong dream?” Lisa hesitated before protesting some more. “I shouldn’t spend this much money.” “Oh, Lisa, when have you ever really spent on yourself other than necessities,” Ruth continued. “And alcohol doesn’t count!” Ruth laughed when she said this, thinking of the many drinking nights they had down at the pubs when they were in their twenties. “I know, but...” “No buts, Lisa. You never had kids, you married that guy with serious mental health issues...You are so lucky you got out of that one, babe,” Ruth continued. “He was a bum and you lucked out. You got to keep most of what you earned. Lord knows, he didn’t earn much while you were together.” “He had so much potential...” “Potential doesn’t put bread on the table or a roof over your heads, Lisa.” Ruth admonished. “I know, I know. You’re right,” Lisa agreed weakly. “Bite the bullet, pull the trigger, press the button! I can keep going with all these silly phrases if you’d like.” “No, no need. You really think I should?” “YES!” *** She obsessively checked the tracking status every day since she clicked the BUY NOW button. SHIPPING LABEL CREATED It stayed on that status for a week since she ordered the darned thing. What was taking so long, she wondered. ORDER SHIPPED She tracked the cities her camera visited, most of which she had never seen. DES MOINES, IA MEMPHIS, TN PITTSBURGH, PA KEARNY, NJ Where the heck was Kearny, NJ anyway, she thought to herself. And then finally, those words she had been waiting to see since she ordered it: OUT FOR DELIVERY She had butterflies in her stomach when she saw that after she logged on in the morning. She turned on the radio to listen to the news to pass the time. The nor’easter is in full force, with a total accumulation of 6 to 10 inches expected. Drifts could be up to two feet with the wind this storm is bringing. Power outages are expected. Her heart sank as she peeked out the window. How could she have not known about this? She refreshed her screen again. A bright yellow bar appeared at the top of the browser window. DUE TO EXTREME WEATHER CONDITIONS FROM STORM WENDY, DELIVERIES CAN NOT BE GUARANTEED IN THE FOLLOWING STATES... Of course, her state was listed. She glanced out the window again and saw big, white snowflakes falling fast. She got up from her chair and looked down at the ground. There must have been about two inches of the white stuff accumulated already. Lisa decided a nap was in order. *** It had taken Lisa months of trial and error to learn what an F-Stop was, or aperture, or ISO. After taking some courses at the local art school, and reading a lot online, she had gotten the hang of it. Photoshop was another story, however. But she learned enough to edit her own photographs so that they were at least presentable, in her mind, anyway. She had taken hundreds, if not thousands, of photos, many of which were not very good. The composition was off, or they were blurry, or the bird standing on the rock took off just as soon as she snapped. She tried, but sometimes she wondered why she had spent so much money on what was turning out to be a toy. Her friends were much more supportive than her ego could ever be. Ruth, ever-faithful Ruth, praised her but was not reluctant to offer blunt but honest critiques when appropriate. Lisa, despite her fragile ego, found herself getting better as time progressed. Lisa finally got up the courage to enter a photography show at the local art school where she had taken classes. There was one photo of a copper fountain that was spraying water during an unexpectedly early autumn snowstorm. The image of the water spouting, the mums in full bloom at the fountain’s base, with the flakes coming down around them created a beautiful juxtaposition. Lisa attended the opening, her first one ever. She walked around the gallery, searching for her work. She strolled past ceramic sculptures of twisted bodies, huge paintings of abstract landscapes, bent metal evoking images of horror and fright. She turned a corner and found herself in a somewhat dark alcove, her photo hung in a corner, with little light, next to the bathroom. She frowned. With Ruth’s encouragement and additional training, Lisa’s talent flourished. She became the unofficial photographer at gatherings of friends and family. Bar mitzvahs, children’s sporting events, and anywhere hired photographers were not present. She did not want to be an events photographer, that wasn’t her thing. She preferred to take pictures in the moment, the serendipity of life unplanned is where she got her pleasure. More photographs, more contests, more shows. The email she received one summer afternoon intrigued her. It was a notice of the 46th Annual National Photography Show, sponsored by the Women’s Photography Society. This show was one of the most prestigious in the country. It had launched careers. The deadline for entry was in a month. She thought about her peers who probably had dozens of photos at the ready. She had none. She had to take one, and soon. Driving home from the supermarket one evening along a road that paralleled a small river, her groceries packed in the back seat, she found a potential opportunity. The sun was setting, and she glanced to her left. She saw a car parked in the lot of the small park, a man standing outside his car, trying to capture the perfect sunset. Why not? She thought. She pulled in and parked next to the man taking photos. He nodded and smiled at her, acknowledging the camaraderie of a fellow shutterbug. She got her equipment out and made the adjustments as quickly as she could. Sunsets are fickle things, she knew, and the perfect shot is gone before you know it. Still, she took shot after shot, her disappointment growing with each one. As expected, the sunset was gone. She got back in her car and drove home before her frozen foods melted. It took Lisa several days before she looked through her set of photos from that evening. She wasn’t completely happy with them but found there was one that might be good enough to submit to the show. The jurors probably wouldn’t accept it, but she was going to give it her best effort. Opening Photoshop to tweak it a little, she adjusted the brightness here, the contrast there, making color modifications as necessary. Not many changes, nothing so overly processed that it stopped looking like a photo and more like an abstract painting. Finally, after a couple of hours of work, she deemed the work done and submitted it to the show. Several weeks later, she received an email from the Women’s Photography Society. Her eyes scanned it for the inevitable rejection. Much to her surprise, they accepted her one and only entry. Ruth screamed on the phone when Lisa phoned her a few minutes later. Lisa so wished Ruth was with her in that moment, as she had wished Ruth was with her during so many other important events in her life. The show was to be held a few hundred miles from where Lisa lived. She had the photograph matted and framed and held the finished product in her hands, pride beaming on her face. The sunset was not your typical golden one, but one bursting with pink, orange, and coral, and was reflected in the water below it. It was beautiful, she finally admitted to herself. The day of the show opening arrived, and she had driven up a day earlier and stayed in a cute little bed-and-breakfast a few miles from the gallery. They were going to announce the winners at the show, and she was anxious. She didn’t think she was going to win, of course, but there was always that chance... The gallery was packed with people, and wine and cheese platters were placed strategically away from the artwork. Folks milled about, whispering here and there, surreptitiously criticizing works they didn’t like, sometimes a little too loudly. In the main gallery, she found her work, displayed proudly next to works she thought were much, much better than hers. And bigger. She knew she should have printed the larger size. “That’s a really beautiful piece,” Lisa heard someone behind her say. Blushing, she turned. “Ruth!” she exclaimed, shocked and surprised to see her friend standing next to her. Ruth pulled her into her arms and hugged her. “What are you doing here?” Lisa asked Ruth sidestepped the question and said, “I love you, Lisa, and I am so proud of you!” Lisa was overwhelmed with emotion. She couldn’t believe that her only piece, which she hadn’t even taken until recently, was hanging in this gallery in a very prestigious show and that her best friend, whom she hadn’t seen in decades, had traveled thousands of miles just to be with her in her proudest moment. A glass tinkled and she saw a middle-aged woman standing at a podium that Lisa would have sworn was not there a minute ago. “We’d like to announce our winners,” the woman said. “Although we have received many beautiful pieces of art, these truly stand above the rest...” Ruth pulled Lisa aside after the announcements were made. It was then that Lisa noticed a little green dot on the side of the frame of her photo, indicating the piece was sold. Lisa looked at Ruth. “Did you...” the unasked question trailed off. “Wasn’t me, sweetie, but I personally think Salmon Park Sunset was the best one here!” © 2022 Stephen A. Massa