Addario writes conflictingly of her decision to step away from photographing America’s War on Terror. At the beginning of Chapter, 7, Addario’s desire to “branch out beyond the daily demands of breaking-news photography” juxtaposes her passion to capture real-time moments of human remorse and emotion. Nonetheless, she mitigates this conflict by explaining that her opportunities as an Iraqi photographer were becoming limited in scope due to “violent, restrictive” conditions in the Middle East. She feels fettered and shackled by the political circumstances of the War on Terror, and as a result, she longs for a photographic atmosphere that unleashes her intimate creativity.
Addario makes her dilemma comparable to her audience’s experiences by declaring that she needed to “move on”: a phrase that so closely encompasses the feelings of growing up and transitioning from childhood to adulthood. As a result, Addario’s intents for moving her career to Africa resonates with her dynamic and perhaps youthful audience. She yearns for an environment that captures human emotions profusely; in Africa, she feels that she can “lose herself” into the sensational appeals that will surround her as she photographs the people of Darfur. Whereas her War on Terror photography was tremored by pain and suffering, she aims to add a much stronger humanitarian angle to her work in Africa. Addario’s utilization of kairos is effective in emphasizing her heart’s desire for a new, engaging experience: she feels that now is the “perfect opportunity” to begin to transition into mature work—a feeling relatable among teens who want to pursue sophisticated opportunities but are unsure of the exact moment (or chronos) of their departure from childhood.
While writing my passion blog, I hope to juxtapose my love for technology with my career as a freelance musician. Like Addario, I boldly understand the need to “move on”: although I enjoy playing the saxophone, I long for something that implements my skills as a writer, a critical thinker, and a mathematician. Oftentimes, I feel that I’m unsatisfied by my work as a musician; this is possibly due to the fact that I consider music a hobby, and not a profession.
I have considered including this personal conflict of mine in order to emphasize the uncertainty that lies ahead of many of the entrepreneurs, businessmen, and innovators discussed in my blog. Similarly, I hope to illustrate my dilemma involving my passion and my profession, employing it to help shape the complicated lives of today’s technology leaders and their decisions to turn away from their professions and pursue their passions.