I have been really inspired lately by an old friend who has reinvented her career as a photographer. She’s incredibly talented, and I’m thrilled to be working with her soon.
For the first time since my kids were toddlers, I’ve decided to rejoin them on our holiday card this year. Somehow, I feel like I earned my place back on the card, especially this year. And yet, the thought of having my picture taken makes me queasy. So I’m choosing to work with someone I trust and respect.
I am the one who will dodge the camera when it comes out at parties and social events. If you look at group photos with me in it, I’m almost always the one with a closed mouth, Mona Lisa grin, among a bunch of big white smiles. I just legit hate having my picture taken. And over the past few weeks, I’ve spent a bit of time reflecting on why.
There’s the obvious vain answer. I hate the way I look in pictures. There have been a rare few when I’ll grudgingly admit, “hey, that one came out ok.” Otherwise, the reaction to seeing my image is like listening to myself on a voicemail…”is that what I really look/sound like?!”
However, there is a different, more meaningful reason. It’s about what the image conveys. I’ve always viewed photographs as an invasion of privacy. Kind of like sharing your life and personal thoughts on a blog. Ironic, right? Sensing a theme with me? Since I was a teenager, I have never wanted people to be able to document their history of me. Photos represented memories of the past to me, which I never found interest or comfort in. I always preferred to look forward instead.
As I’ve become a mother, I have softened a bit. I love photos of my children, and watching movement through life captured through a series of images. I appreciate the sheer art form of photography as well. I love exploring a fantastic photographer’s artistic interpretation of a subject; human or otherwise. I am in awe of those gifted with a camera, who are able to capture one image that conveys an entire story.
The majority of pictures these days I see are those posted through social media. It is fun to see my old friend’s family photos and vacations and my kids crazy pictures posted to Instagram. Its a treat to explore other worlds and cultures through my diverse group of friends, understanding how they live and what they celebrate by what they share and post.
Interestingly, I’ve learned that over the past 111 Days, as I have grown more tolerant of my own ability to become less private and share more, I have been more open to showing up in pictures. I’ve learned “selfies” were made for me, because I can take a bunch and select one I don’t detest. Realistically, I’m not 15 and don’t have time to practice smiling for the camera by taking my own picture. And honestly, I’m not that self-absorbed that I care that much about getting good at it.
The picture I really care about getting right, however, is one good one with my daughters and I. Yes, I’m trusting my friend will capture a good one where we are all smiling and looking decent that we can use for holiday greetings. But the important one will have me and the girls doing something that displays our bond - because we are in this together. I don’t have an idea of what that looks like yet, nor do I expect it to be overly staged. Just someday, years down the road when they are gone from this nest, I want to be able to know I have both a visual image to compliment the emotional one etched into my soul for the journey we’ve been on together lately. And I can’t continue to be the jerk who says “don’t take my picture” and not allow that to happen.
So if it takes getting my picture taken only when I’m around people I trust, then I guess that’s what I’ll do. But if my budding photographer teenage daughter can take my current favorite of me, I’m betting my professional friend is going to capture something outstanding for us.
No comments:
Post a Comment