An appropriate choice for the first picture, I think. Even though my hair was a little Justin Beiber-ish, I’m really digging how I look here.
I’ve come quite a way since that first shoot. My camera is no longer an expensive piece of electronic equipment I leave on automatic. I’m changing settings because I know what I’m trying to capture and what I need to do to get there. I enjoy talking to other shutter-bugs about F-stops, apertures and lenses because I’m getting it. I get that you have to have a low F-stop to get that nice, dreamy quality in the background. I get that you have to dial down your shutter-speed to give the illusion of emptiness in a busy place. I can look at photos now and puzzle out what settings they used, if they used a flash or not. I’m not saying I know it all, but I know more than I did yesterday and I’m going to know more tomorrow.
Before that shoot, my experience behind the camera had been limited to a point and shoot. Candids from birthday parties, girls’ night out, and vacations, that was my portfolio. This was different. There was a story to tell through the lip balm and the clothes. I worked closely with DH to create a storyboard. As the models got ready that day, DH and I rigged lights, dressed the set, and set up craft services (we keeps it professional). I had yet to even put the lens on the camera and I started to doubt myself. My experiences with modeling were from the other side of the camera. All I knew was head tilts, shoulder leans, and broken doll. Could I duplicate what we had discussed? Would I be able to re-tell this boy-meets-girl love story using angles and light?
I look at myself in that photograph now and see apprehension on my face. Just below it, though, is some confidence, some anticipation. I look at that photograph and I can see the story behind it. Before, I would have captioned that photograph “Aspiring Photographer Testing Equipment” (real eloquent, right?). Now, “Photographer, Self Portrait”, is more fitting.
Coever has been having trouble recognizing when she need to go, she really needs to go. As a result, we’ve been burning through underpants at an alarming rate. She, like her sister, is so afraid to miss something, she will hold it and hold it until she’s bursting. This means, even though she’ll make it to the bathroom, in the time it takes to get her pants around her ankles, there’s some pee around her ankles, too.
She’s frustrated. I’m frustrated. We’re working on it, though.
The other day, she had another accident, and I scooped her up and dropped her in the tub. I was tempted to stick her in the shower in my bathroom so I could have a Calgon moment of my own. It was about 2 in the afternoon and the sunlight coming in from the bathroom window was so soft and just inviting. Coever was rosy cheeked from the warm water and I pulled her out of the tub, I thought, “I need to photograph this!”
I’m thinking either one of us may have a future career here.