You Never Know With Life
By Greg Davis
29 March 2007
While rummaging around in my father's liquor cabinet when I was a young boy, I came across a piece of equipment that I had yet to know. There lay an old Canon AE-1, dusty and deprived. I reached passed the wounded soldiers, the half empty bourbon and Scotch bottles, and was introduced to the world of photography.
That same year I joined the high school newspaper as the staff photographer, only being awarded the job because no one else wanted it. I hadn't spent much time with the camera, much less with the chemicals involved in processing the film that awaited me in the darkroom. "I might be in over my head," I began to ponder. My journalism teacher, seeing some of the doubt in my eye, invited the local newspaper photographer to spend time with me in the darkroom that semester and introduce me to this strange new world. The first time I saw the ghostly images begin to appear in the wash, I knew that I was going to be interested in this exciting new world.
I was 16 years old then, and as strong of an interest that lay in those chemicals, there was a lifetime of other pursuits running through my mind in those days. I enjoyed hauling the camera out to the Friday Night Football games and shooting some of the on-field action, but my interest lay in the pretty girls on the opposing team's cheerleading and drill team squads. Lucky for me, the camera was just a great excuse to go to the other side to capture some shots of the "action." "Go Lions, Tigers, and Bears, whoever you are!" I thought, "I am going to like this photography gig after all."
I spent the next year locked in the darkroom for an hour a day during journalism class with the prettiest two assistants that I could find from class. It didn't hurt that Jan and Cheryl were also two of the prettiest in all of the school. Again I thought, "I could get used to this photography gig!"
As the summer of 1987 approached, a question arose as does in most young peoples' lives when high school graduation looms. "What do I want to do with the rest of my life?" In hindsight, it was completely ridiculous to think that an 18 year old would be able to answer such a question with any confidence. I had just begun to feel comfortable with the camera and was starting to capture photos that were at least good enough to be published in the high school newspaper, so when my father asked me of my post graduation plans, I told him that I had decided that I wanted to go to art school to pursue an education in photography. A proper sound effect here would be the scratching of a needle across vinyl � a favorite vinyl record at that.
Because I would be a fourth generation legacy at Baylor University, I knew where Dad would be recommending that I attend, and it wasn't going to be to an art school. It was then that I quietly tucked the AE-1 back behind the dusty bottles and went on about life as it was expected to be, without a focus on photography. So began my collegiate life at Baylor University's School of Business.
Throughout the following years, while on vacations, I would carry a small digital point-and-shoot by my side in order to document my memories as they would pass by. Like everyone else, I would come back with a few shots that would make me dream of the day that I could throw it all away and become a world traveling photographer. And like everyone else, I would have them printed and tucked away in an album only to be brought out once in a blue moon to share those experiences with someone who cared to sit through it all, the poor sap who couldn't say no to my invitation. Looking though someone's vacation or family album might be one of the most boring things one can be forced to do. "This is me at the "Welcome to Arizona" sign and this is me at the Grand Canyon, and here I am leaving Arizona.
Many years passed in my life without much attention to the world of photography, then in the summer of 2004, I decided to give it all up; my stable job in corporate America and most of my belongings, even my trusted dog, and strike out on an adventure. Traveling around this great big, exciting, lonely, lush, sad, bustling, wondrous, depressing, busy, lavish, friendly, beautiful, intriguing, humorous, spiritual, generous, adaptive, dangerous, creative, sincere, simple, ever changing world of ours had been on my life list of things to do for over a decade. The opportunity to travel around the world presented itself to me; I then evaluated my choices and made the decisions that would ultimately take my life down a very exciting path, one I had always dreamed of. It would be an experience that would always live with me and one that would change my life.
Leading up to my decision, I had spent many of my last waking moments each evening asking God for his help in leading me according to his will. Eventually, things started to fall into place, one after the other; clearly pointing me to follow my heart. I accepted what was laid before me and departed in July of 2004 for a one year, fourteen country circumference of the planet. My mother has always said that prayers can and will be answered if you believe they will. "Mothers are always right you know", at least that is what mine has always told me. In my backpack, along with a few change of clothes and some toiletries, I carried a small laptop and my trusty Olympus C-750 to capture and document memories of my trip, mostly for my own enjoyment.
Prior to departing, I created a website: www.gregdavisphotography.com that allowed my family and friends a direct view into my experience. I made a point to document my journey not only through the lens of my camera but also through the writing of an extensive journal. I think that my inspiration came from knowing that my experiences would be viewed and read by my loved ones as soon as I could sit down at one of the world's growing number of internet cafés and download it all. I would then email everyone letting them know of the recent updates. This process forced me to become much more aware of my surroundings, for I wanted to capture the most intimate experience for those unable to be there with me. All of those little things in life, the things that make life and culture, what it is, began opening themselves to me. I was then able to slow down and open my eyes to those things knowing that they would ultimately be captured, shared and claimed by the imaginations of others through the power of the internet. It was my way of sharing my trip with those I cared for.
In July 2005, a little more than a year after my journey had begun and after visiting the countries of Turkey, South Africa, Mozambique, Swaziland, India, Nepal, Malaysia, Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, Vietnam, Indonesia, Australia and Fiji, I flew back to America where I picked up my dog Laci, collected my belongings, visited with my family, and shared stories with old friends. I didn't, however, return to the corporate job and cubicle. I wasn't sure exactly in what direction I should head, I just knew that I didn't want to end up in some cubicle somewhere. If I was going to do something forty plus hours a week, I wanted it to be fun this go around.
It took some time for me to reconnect with the American culture. I felt like an outsider in my own country. I had only been gone for a year, but things seemed different. I guess I was looking at things from a different perspective. People were talking about different things, different political situations, different sitcoms, different issues altogether. Some friends were talking about babies, some were talking about retirement, some just talking to hear their own voice. Of course there was an interest in hearing my stories of where I'd been, and what I'd seen, and who I'd met, but once the "honeymoon" was over and I had told them what they wanted to hear, it was back to their daily routines. I found there to be an overindulgence in everything, a strong sense of urgency to retire, an unnecessary focus on material value and an overwhelming preoccupation with the future, which comes from the need to control things that we really have no control over.
Once reality began sinking in and bills started showing up, I realized that I was back and I needed to find work, but what the heck was I going to do? I went out to a local golf course and landed a job driving the golf cart that picks up balls at the driving range. The job sounded good on paper, but after five days of driving in circles and getting golf balls fired at me, I realized that there were just some jobs that I was not born to do. Then when my $130 paycheck showed up the next week, I was convinced that I had made the right decision to leave. $130 a week is a long way from my days working for a technology company bringing in $2,000 a week, but I was willing to be patient, and follow the new path without trying to control it.
Next, I tended bar down in the entertainment district in Austin, Texas. Good for social reintroduction, but bad for the liver. About the time I starting feeling an urge to move on from the bar scene, an old college roommate contacted me and asked me to be the national sales manager for his company, Mental. Mental is a hat company that specializes in headgear for the snowboard and ski market. I started working for Mental in December 2005.
One weekend in December of 2005, I stopped by a local art market in Austin and talked to the man in charge about setting up to exhibit my photographs from my travels. I told him that I was a photographer and although I hadn't had any formal training, people had been complimenting me on my photographs and I wanted to see if there was a market for them. I knew that my photos were special, but they were just pictures from my journey, nothing I thought I could make a living off of. For $25 a day, the Austin 6th Street Market set me up with a tent and some walls to hang my work and I haven't looked back since. From the very first day out at the market, I have received a tremendous response. People are actually paying me hard earned money for pictures of my vacation! I am well on my way to paying myself back for my trip with my new photography business.
As of today, I still pay most of the bills by going to an office every day, but I enjoy the creative opportunities that I have with Mental, such as helping create new designs, new products and new sales and marketing campaigns. I hope one day to make my photos and journal entries detailing my experience into a coffee-table book to share with those people whose circumstances don't allow for year-long, 14-country trips around the world. I also dream of doing it all again and my trip did just that, it catapulted me into being able to dream again. I have blew off the dust of the old me and discovered a hidden talent that lay dormant within me for almost twenty years. I hope that my story can inspire you to find what lies within you.
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