2015 poses one big question:
How daring is too daring?
12pm on the 1st of January and I was already being forced to answer it. Standing on the edge of the wharf along Auckland Harbour, the waves taunted below.
Rough, dark, and ready to swallow up anyone who dared jump. Namely, me.
Two boys, they must have been about seven years old, stood metres away from the edge, egging myself and a few friends on. What they lacked in height,
they made up for in sass. “I bet you won’t jump.”
Deciding I actually wanted to see the sun rise in 2015, I swallowed my pride and did the second best thing. I spent the first moments of the year arguing
with these two little teasers, quietening their attitudes only with the claim that I was a qualified surf lifeguard instructor. I shocked even myself as the words
came out. You see, educating kids on the consequences of peer pressure felt so 2014. Less than a minute into the New Year, and I was
preaching my newest solution to potentially pride-tumbling situations, ‘when in doubt, fake your identity’.
The year continued ever so boldly. Just the other day, I unconsciously ordered an avocado smash with tomato. Usually I’m awful with decision-making
but I’d seen feta on the menu and stopped reading, convinced I’d already hit the jackpot. Boy are they right when they tell you life’s not all sunshine and
rainbows. For a second, the decision felt okay: the slices were adding colour to my gram. On a further positive note, I had been a slightly less annoying
human being (even if unintentionally). After trying and for the tenth time, disliking tomatoes, I had to urge myself not to go up to the staff to apologise.
It was nothing against their tomatoes, in fact, I’m sure for a tomato lover, those herbs complimented the taste quite nicely.
The point is, I still don’t regret ordering the tomatoes. Because alike to switching roles in this shoot featuring The Leather Satchel Company,
I pushed myself.
One day, when I’m old and mature, I’ll meet those little boys again, and this time, I’ll opt out of a joke and instead teach them a lesson. I’ll tell
them I’m not the best photographer, I am definitely not a surf lifeguard instructor, and I don’t like tomatoes, but I am trying. And if anything,
I reckon we should keep doing so. Perhaps one year tomatoes won’t taste so sour.