"beautiful awkward pictures that you take with your eyes and fingers"
Photographs.I spend so much time taking them, posting them, talking about my passion for them….so I thought id post a bit about one of the reasons why this love exists…
A photograph tells a story.
A friend recently commented on one of my photographs as a one they really like. While its nice to hear this and the comment is totally appreciated, it is also a little weird to hear – images you have taken are liked by others. Its weird because my reason for loving the photograph comes from the context in which it was taken – the memory it evokes when I look at it – where it was, the way the wind and the sun felt when I took it, what intrigued me about the subject enough to take the photograph…. A photograph becomes something personal, in the memory it holds so dearly, it is odd to then think that a completely new meaning or association is established for an observer of your image.
It tells a story of which they can never be apart.
Yet, strangely, the image speaks to them also!
I therefore think that one common and important purpose of photography is its ability to capture a moment; to embalm a memory so that it cannot be stolen from you before you will let it.
The family snaps for example, these serve such a purpose.
My grandfather is currently visiting from NZ. On the weekend he presented my mother and I a photograph he had recently found, and framed. The image was of my Nana, my mother’s mother, his wife, who passed away last year. It was taken before he met her. While I admit it was not easy to see the photograph as my mother and grandfather started to talk of Nana’s passing. But it was still an absolutely beautiful image to see. A completely ordinary photograph of a person becomes an invaluable treasure. And what I loved about the whole thing was the way my grandfather, holding the frame with one, slightly shaky hand, his other slowly wiped across her image as he lovingly spoke of her and the memory of those early years. He must have studied this image a million times, but he so lovingly and gently pointed out that she had something in her dress pocket - a new observation? I wasnt really sure. But every little detail of this image was to be treasured.
A similar sentiment was alluded to when my aunt and uncle stayed with us a few weeks ago. One thing in particular stood out to me from a conversation we had when my uncle and I were sifting through some of my drawings one afternoon, discussing similarities between drawing, photography, and writing (he is an author). My cousin passed away 4 years ago. My uncle told me that when he comes across something of my cousin’s which he now feels he can, or should, depart with, he takes a photograph of it.
That photograph for him is so much more than a photograph; and so much more than a photograph of an object; it is an image representing and reminding him of hundreds of memories to which he desires to hold for as long as humanly possible.
Maybe I just think about things too much….but if you ask me, a photograph can be incredibly powerful!
There is always much, much more to them than what first meets the eye. Even if you are unaware of it, an image always has a story to be told.
And it is there for photographer, subject, and observer alike.
I don’t know about you, but I will continue to capture and to gaze.
(Ironically I could not think of a photograph appropriate for this post)
1 Comments:
yeh i rate photography. you can never take a picture that really captures the entirety of the majestic nature of...nature, nor can it ever totally encapsulate the feel of the atmosphere at the time. it only ever serves as a shadow of what was.
but shadows are nice. some shadows are more representative to the object that cast it than others, but in the end, a shadows a shadow, big or small.
...and i don't actually know where i'm trying to go with this or what i was trying to say....errrmmm, i like photos.
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