My passion for photography started when I Dad appointed me official family vacation photographer. I wrote this about 1985.

Photo: Dog and swimsuit, Thailand, circa 1975

For the past 15 years, I have been walking the world with a
camera. In my work, on my vacations, In my spare time during the
day and night, In cities, farms, factories, foreign countries,
homes public and private gatherings and countless other times and
places I have been taking, making or thinking about pictures.
Why? Even I have great difficulty answering that question.
At first, It was just for fun, like fishing or hunting. Take the
camera out and see what you can bag. Gradually, the game became
more serious. Just bringing back something beautiful or
interesting wasn’t enough. Now it had to something, to
excite and Interest and move me. I ‘ve always done It for myself.
I am a photographer, a creature of the catæra. For me,
photography Is as much a way of living as a way of looking. I
live partly to re—live what I have seen and felt. To see what
I’ve missed? I am in the scene, but out of It at the game time.
I ‘m always on the lookout, sizing up the situation, watching the
light, sizing up the patterns, looking for the message, the
meaning. I do this whether I ‘m carrying a caæra or not. Oh, the
pictures that got away.
Why? What has this 15 year crusade with a caæra been for?
Or against? Why have I bothered? There are all sorts of
reasons I can think of, but none that I can really be sure of.
Do I photograph to live or live to photograph? What am I trying
to point out?