I'll never forget that day. I was seven years old, snooping around in the closet of my stepfather's 26 year old roommate. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed something hiding under the dresser. What was it? My tiny fingers plucked it out from beneath it's dark cave. The sight to meet my young eyes was almost incomprehensible. What was he doing to that girl? What happened to all their clothes? These should have been the thoughts running through my mind, but they weren't.
It was that pornographic magazine that first sparked my interest in photography. Parents, that right there is a very good reason you should remember to lock up your porn like you lock up your guns!
I know it's strange, but the first thing I thought when I flipped open that magazine and scanned through the worn pages of boobs and butts was, "I bet I could have taken that picture so much better!"
And even though I was only seven, had never held a camera, and knew nothing of the art of photography, I was sure I could have done a better job. In retrospect, those magazines were not of the highest caliber, I bet a blind man with Polaroid could have done a better job.
Of course, as a child, when people asked me what I wanted to do when I grew up porn photographer was never my answer. A little girl can't go about sharing that kind of information. Could you imagine? One time, when I was in fifth grade, we had to give a presentation to the rest of the class about the profession we wanted when we grew up. What if I had gone up there with a display of pornographic magazines? How would my parents explain that one to the officials?
In fact, to this day, I can't tell people what I wanted to do when I grew up because they would think I was a liar. I usually just tell them I had no dreams or aspirations as a kid except not growing up, which I failed at miserably.