The Question

Once ya stop laughing, this is one Onion that scrapes awfully close to the truth; and the reality can certainly play like one sorry satire. If pressed, what would I have to show for my spare time obsession other than a few photos in the proverbial 21st century shoebox?

Actually, I purposely chose this P/T way of the warrior path after seeing what even successful NYC studio photographers had to go through (ie- the eternal hustle to get jobs followed by the eternal hustle just to get paid for said jobs). Perhaps, the question is not what I have to show, but what have I managed to avoid? A motorcycle would've landed me dead in my twenties for sure (smartest thing I never did)... just as sure as the latter part of that particular hustle above would have eventually caused me to do something that would have landed me in a place where I'd have every minute of every goddamn day to myself.

Nevertheless, an even greater question still remains- photography has been a private, personal joy... but has it been a salvation, or a selfish, distracting diversion that has actually prevented the achievement of a greater good, maybe even a life of actual accomplishment?

Life saving recourse, or life sucking addiction like any other? Something you may want to (re)consider- sooner rather than later. Damn, that's some scary shit...