For as long as I can remember, I’ve liked taking pictures. I think I get it from my dad who was always taking pictures when I was younger and has an amazing eye. My favorite pictures from my childhood are those that he took when I had no idea he was taking pictures. Even today, I prefer candid shots to the posed. I’m also a huge fan of landscape shots. I don’t mess with the light or shutter speed much because I want the picture to be the way I saw the event at the time.
I have photo albums, scrapbooks, shoeboxes and picture frames all over my house. I have a collage in my bedroom composed entirely of places I’ve fallen in love with while traveling. Paris from a boat on the Seine, a secluded beach on Maui, a park bench in Barcelona, Fenway Park from the Prudential building in Boston, the Brooklyn Bridge from a ferry on the East River, a meadow in Westcliffe near the cabin, and an amazing shot of an American flag in Arlington. Framed photos of friends and family litter my mantel. I can look up and see my sisters at ages 5 and 3 grinning back at me. I love the shot of us girls at Karen’s wedding, drunk on champagne and each other’s company. My mom and step-dad shortly after they met, sit in front of a fireplace, completely in love.
Pictures are comfort to me. I’m sure if I spent some time on the couch, a psychiatrist would delve into the peace I get from looking at the past. I’m sure he would point out something about the fact that I have total control over what I capture in the lense of a camera. I can pick what I want to remember. He might ask if perhaps my fear of loneliness has caused me to surround myself with photos of people I love. Perhaps… But see that’s why I don’t need a psychiatrist, I already know all of this about me. Mostly, I think it’s about the fact that something moved me enough to want to capture it. I think it’s as much about capturing the feeling as it is the image.
Last night, after meeting my mom for some ice cream (a failed attempt to combat the July heat), I decided to take a drive. I rolled down all of the windows and headed west towards the hogback. Just as I was coming around the bend near Dinosaur Ridge, the clouds broke and the moon peaked out. It was full last night and of course, my first instinct was to get a picture. Armed only with my cell phone, I snapped a shot. Thinking it was worthy, I attached a text message and sent it to someone who had already told me they couldn’t see the moon from their vantage point. To me, pictures are meant to be shared with others. I want other people to enjoy what I’ve seen. I want them to experience the feeling.
This was the text message I got back…
Umm, can’t really tell. Not gonna lie to you it kinda looks like a street lamp. Thank you though.
Hey, I only said my dad had the amazing eye. I just like to take pictures.
7 comments:
I love pics too -- as you well know since you've seen the shelves of them in my living room. I think it has less to do with lonliness and fear of abandonment and more to do with wanting to remember beautiful people and places. There is NOTHING wrong with that. I mean really, pictures help us remember great times like Karen by the side of the road, me behind the head table at the wedding, Beth in the bathroom at Vail, and you and Becki in a variety of compromising positions over the years. Yay! Pictures
There isn't anything wrong with remembering. Memories are one of the best things we have. They can lift your spirits. Pictures go along with that. That's why I love them, especially older ones.
Y'know, sometimes a street lamp...or any kind of outdoor lamp...can look like the moon.
I know it's not nice to make fun of your 16-year-old self, but sometimes I just can't help it. Or maybe I just don't try. Either way.
it's a huge stretch but i have only ever heard the name kendra once before. You didn't by chance go to junior high in doylestown, Pa - did you?
Ewww what a schmuck to say something like that to you! You want I should have him whacked for you? (bad attempt at mafia intonation). I have always loved photos and surround myself with them also, a tremendous comfort. I think it's wonderful that you do too.
ANd I swear that camera of yours from high school,which is older than dirt, always makes us look like supermodels. I love that camera.
I love photographs.
I especially love old photos of my grandparents or parents when they were in high school, or the ones when my little brother still has his baby blonde hair...
Great post!
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