On Wanting To Fail

I want to fail.

Not in the way that sounds. I want to succeed at failing — because failing means I've tried.

Photography taught me this before I had words for it. Nobody sees the frames that didn't work. The portraits where the light fell wrong. The street shots I hesitated on and missed. For every image I post, there are hundreds that failed quietly on a memory card. That's not a flaw in the process. That is the process.

But somewhere along the way, I stopped applying that logic to the bigger things. The projects I haven't started. The ideas sitting in notes apps and half-written pitches.

I keep hearing stories about people who had very little and made something spectacular out of themselves through pure grit. And here's the uncomfortable truth: I have everything. A loving, encouraging support system. Every camera, lens, and tool I could ask for. What I've been missing isn't resources — it's attempts.

A missed shot teaches you something. A shot you never took teaches you nothing.

So I'm done collecting excuses. I want to collect failures instead — stories of things I chased and didn't reach. Because a portfolio of failures is proof of a life spent trying.

And unless I try, I won't succeed.