I learned photography with my dad’s old Kiev-4A film camera. Then, in 2006, I brought home my first professional digital camera—a Canon 30D. As soon as my dad noticed it, he asked, “How much was it?” I laughed it off and told him I’d bought it for a quarter of its real price, then captured this photo. My dad was a devoted communist, and I knew the truth would only invite a storm.
Despite my white lie, he still lectured me on the virtue of old tools—how film cameras were more than enough, how the new digital technology was an unnecessary excess. I listened, smiled, and continued taking photos of him.
Then I showed him the pictures. He smiled and said, “This is cool,” but paused before adding, “Still unnecessary!”
I handed him the camera. He snapped a picture of me (the second photo in this post), looked at it, and a satisfied smile appeared on his face. Today marks the second anniversary of his passing. I share these images to celebrate the man who taught me how to be curious and observe.
