CAPTURING REALITY- MOTIVATIONAL MONDAY

A photographer who isn’t interested in the photograph? It sounds odd at first, but I spent some time pondering this Henri Cartier-Bresson quote. While my thoughts may not be exactly what Cartier-Bresson intended, I have a few ideas to share.

THE MOMENT

I really thought about this quote. Every time I started digging deep, I kept coming back to thoughts and memories this quote inspired. The first thing was the photos I’ve taken because I realized they were “moments”. When I say “moments”, what I mean is those times when life is happening and you just want to memorialize what is happening at that second. These are the moments when you really don’t care about the technical side of things. You just want a record to help you remember. It doesn’t matter if the image isn’t tack sharp, or the sky is overexposed with no detail… These technical issues are not the point of the photograph you are capturing. You are trying to capture a child’s first steps, that moment at a surprise party, opening a special gift at the holiday…

Naturally, I started questioning if I had photos that, while technically flawed, were meaningful enough to make the flaws unimportant. There is one image that came to mind immediately.

THE “MOMENT” PHOTO

My family walked for a charity event each year. One year, I turned around to see my Dad, sister, and one niece walking together. I snapped that photo to capture that moment. The only thing missing was my Mom. I wish she had been in the frame without staging the photo.

Time has passed since that photo was taken. We have all moved on in life. We no longer walk for charity as a family. So, is that photo more important than the over-exposed sky? You bet it is.

THE MEMORY

All of the images I remembered certainly have memories associated with them. But, there is one photograph I would pay good money to have as my own because of the memory. I say that I would pay for the image because I was not the photographer.

THE MEMORY THAT GOT AWAY

As I recall, my Grandmother had me and my sister dress up and line up on the front porch for photos - regularly. On this one occasion, I was very young (I don’t think I had started school yet), but I informed everyone that I did not want to have my picture taken. After some back-and-forth, my Grandmother said she would just take a picture of my sister - as if that was punishment. Fine by me. Thinking I was off the hook, I moved out of the line-up to celebrate my victory by pouting on the side of the porch.

I didn’t know that she took the picture of my sister posed smiling at the camera, but I was still in the frame. I was on the side of the porch defiantly looking off into the distance, arms crossed, standing my ground. So, why would I want this photo? Because it is visual evidence of my stubbornness that apparently manifest at a very early age. I’ve got to tell you, it is NOT a pretty look, nor something I’m proud of. So, yes, I would love that little moment as a reminder to move through life with a little more grace and, perhaps, a smile on my face even when I prefer to be behind the camera.