I Showed My Cat Pics to a Leica Legend. And What it Taught Me

The Camera of My Dreams

In 2023, I upgraded my work camera to a Leica Q2.

For people outside of the photography world, this may mean absolutely nothing.

But as a photographer, this felt like a “I fucking made it” moment.

Leica cameras are among the most beautifully made, optically engineered, and prestigious tools a photographer could dream of owning.

My pride and joy. Travel companion. Occasional therapist.

A Chance Encounter in Bucharest

Last fall, while wandering Bucharest, I randomly struck up a conversation with a grandpa carrying a Leica M camera.

He looked like any other film-loving photo nerd.

Turns out… he wasn’t.

I didn’t just meet a photographer. I met the guy who designs the lenses photographers worship.

He was Peter Karbe. The head optical engineer and mastermind behind the very camera I was holding.

At first, I had no idea who he was until his companions gently pointed it out.

Here I was, just talking nerdy with him like it was any other Saturday.

The Unexpected Invitation

Before we parted ways, he invited me to attend a photography event he was hosting the next day.

Of course, I said yes.

The next morning, I jumped out of bed, got ready, grabbed my camera, and headed to the event.

For a guy who hates mornings with a passion, I was actually 30 minutes early to an 8 a.m. event.

Maybe one of the few times in my entire life I’ve been the first to arrive at anything.

Just me, Peter, and another employee from Leica on a beautiful Bucharest morning sipping coffee and shooting the shit.

The Most Awkward Camera Moment Ever

Of course, being a little starstruck, I told Peter how much I loved the lens he designed and that I’d love to show him some of the photos I’d taken with it.

Half nervous, half excited, I powered on my camera.

Oh no….

As soon as the back screen came on, I realized something:

I had just formatted my memory card recently.

The only photos I had to show him were a bunch of random snapshots I’d taken of Arielle, a kitten I was babysitting.

I nervously started pressing the “next” button, blushing, silently praying there was at least one decent shot of Arielle that didn’t make me look like a complete idiot who didn’t deserve his precious creation.

“Jesus Christ, James.

You meet the head optical designer of one of the most iconic camera brands in the world…

And this is what you’ve got?”

A kitten. Chasing toys. Sleeping on the couch.

Photos a monkey with a shutter button could’ve taken.

Much to my surprise and relief, Peter said the photos were nice.

I guess Germans are capable of sugarcoating things, too.

Who knew?

Learning From a Camera Legend

Maybe I accidentally became the relatable guy who treated him like a normal human and didn’t try to impress him.

Or maybe he just took pity on me because my photos looked so wildly amateur.

Either way, he offered to teach me a thing or two about photography.

And how to use an old-school, rangefinder camera, personally.

It was surreal.

Watching one of the most respected optical engineers in the world patiently explain how to align the focusing patch, how to slow down, and how to see the world like an artist.

Once-in-a-lifetime experience…for a Tinder photographer.

The Real Lesson: You Don’t Need to Be Perfect

And maybe that’s why it stuck with me.

Because I was the opposite of being perfect. I didn’t present my best work.

Quite the opposite.

I showed random, crappy cat photos to a camera world legend who belongs in history books.

And somehow, that was good enough.

It didn’t click for me at the time, but looking back, that was one of the most memorable moments where I didn’t try to present the most polished version of myself to impress someone, and still got accepted.

And maybe that’s the lesson that’s been sinking in slowly.

That I don’t need to lead with perfection to be worthy of connection.

I just need to show up.

As I am.

Not just in photography. But in life. In relationships. In the way I let people see me.

And the more I do, the more I realize…

That’s where the real connection lives.

And if striking up a conversation with a stranger in Bucharest can turn into morning coffee with a Leica legend…

What else might be waiting?

If I just keep showing up…

imperfect, vulnerable, and real?