Believe it or not, it isn’t cannabis.
I am addicted to light, and specifically, capturing it. I’ve become a compulsive amateur photographer.
This happened rather suddenly, though the roots went down a long time ago. In 1988, my father sent me off for a semester in India with his 1960s Ricoh 35mm. Complete with a hot-shoe-mounted light meter, that sweet little two pound metal beast accompanied me all over the world’s biggest democracy for four months. I took a ton of disposable tourist crap and a few well-composed and decently-metered shots. I had no idea what I was doing. I pretty much still don’t.