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One of the biggest shortcomings an aspiring artist can have involves not having another artist from which to draw inspiration, and I suffer from that every day. A friend once asked me which photographer inspired me most, and I struggled to answer. The only name that came to mind was Paolo Roversi. Other than that, I have not delved into the world of photography as I should have.

To fix this, I branched out a little since then, but not as much as I should have. I was lucky to discover Peter Lindbergh in my search. A photographer that commands drama in his work like I one day hope to do. Also, a film director, as I wish to be someday. I didn’t know much of him but on the surface, it was clear that he was everything I wished to be when it comes to imagery. 

I had only a few months to become familiar with his work before his passing yesterday, and waking up in a world without him puts quite a few clouds in the sky. It was a silly thing to hope that one day I could meet him and pick his brain, figure out what makes a photograph tell stories and radiate emotions. But it matters that I have a body of work to study from. His mark has been left. Much of what he has created survives today and influences young hopefuls like me, challenging us to be better than just kids with cameras.

I never knew him, and I didn’t know of his work for very long, but I’m very grateful to have learned his name. One thing I’ve realized over the past year is that simple seeds grow into mighty, towering trees. I’m hoping the seed he planted in me turns me into a worthwhile artist.

Thanks, Peter. Bravo.

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