Be Captured...

Last week, as some say down here in the south, I had my "picture made" at BlueSky Studios in Charlotte, as part of a "Pimp My Profile" contest. This is a rare moment, as I am usually on the other side of the lens, where I am much more comfortable. Walking down a busy street in Charlotte in front of a camera while people in cars were being entertained is not in my realm of normalcy and waaaay out of my comfort zone. I love people watching, not being watched by people. Sitting and saying cheese is even hard for me. But Cassandra made it fun and I am glad I did it. Giving up control was hard for me I must admit.  I didn't get to peek or edit out dorky faces or double chins or anything! I had to keep the faith...


 I am the one in the family who captures all the memories of family trips, holidays, celebrations and the everyday ordinary moments. The problem is, and I am sure that this is one that many of you can relate to, if you are the photographer in the family, you are not in them. Or very few unless you hand the camera over to complete bumbling strangers who can never manage to push the button, let alone get a decent shot. OR you are scrambling, running like hell to beat the timer, barely making it to the outer nether regions of the group shot and looking frazzled with your skirt and your hairdo on sideways while everyone else looks calm and neat. And dare I mention the token flattering Christmas morning shot complete with bed head and the demonic red eye? 

Cami and Louie, captured
by BlueSky Charlotte Photography

These are great, because that's life, and we want to be real of course. But do these capture you? uh, no. Will your kids look back and sweetly say "awe, that is SO Mom..." uh, not so much. Will your family or friends get a sense of who you are? Not likely. Sometimes, though, we are lucky and we get caught by others during candid moments and if we do, we should be very very grateful. These are the ones that catch you with your smile, your look, your personality, doing what you do, what makes you YOU.  These are the best, invaluable, the gold, if you can get them. If you let yourself.

captured coolness: My Grandmother Jean,
"Ragin' Granny" 

I remember going through photos when my grandmother passed away, from the slideshow they had at her funeral and that's when I realized there is no such thing as a bad photograph when people are no longer here, and too many is not a number. Yes, I treasure the fuzzy image of aunts, uncles, friends and others I have lost. They are priceless. We are just glad to have an image of any quality, right? 

Beautiful Sisters captured by
iCandy Photography

But we can still get some good quality ones while we have a chance, if we make an effort. My aunt Gail - her beauty, inside and out, glows along with the love and support of her sister, my Aunt Carole, by her side in the photo, through life, and during her battle with cancer. That deep bond, and those beautiful women are captured. (thank you Candice)



So if you don't get "caught" in a random moment just being you by your paparazzi friends or family, sometimes you might need to make it happen. 
So jump in front of that camera. Stop hiding. Don't run from it. Hand it over to your spouse or child or friend or relative. Or during your next family portrait session, take a time out and get a shot or two of... gasp...  JUST YOU.


Yes, it's awkward at the time. Yes, you feel might feel like you are being self centered and slightly ridiculous for a few moments. But some day, years from now, or maybe even only days from now, your family and the people who love you will thank you.  Make yourself known.


 and be captured...







http://www.blueskycharlotte.com/

http://www.icandyphoto.ca/index2.php#/home/

Junkblog

I'm junk blogging. It's a new term for writing while taking a break from cleaning the attic while the kids are at school.  I need to hurry and throw their crap away because soon they'll be out for good and the internal temperature in there will reach 150 degrees.  I must be careful, or they will come home and catch me red handed, telling me ""OH! I neeeeeeeed that!" or "OH! I was looking for that!" C will grab at a plastic horse with missing leg wrapped in pipe cleaners and Christmas ornaments like it is the Holy Grail. Covered with rainbow stickers of course.  We won't even mention poor Barbie. Who knows what she's been through, found naked with a bad haircut and and that eerie frozen smile. Even Ken can't help her now.

ruined Barbie cries for help

While immersed in all this stuff and fearing the film crew from Hoarders will arrive on my doorstep any moment, I am in awe of the things that have accumulated over the years. What alarms me most, is that this is not the initial clean out. This is what remains after previous attempts to de-junk. I have no logical explanation for this. I have tried, but I will never make it to the dreaded back corner of the attic.  I don't know what lurks in or behind the mysterious blue wooden trunk or the boxes stacked on top. I suspect baby clothes, bathroom tiles and some mouse poop . Or worse. Things that are ALIVE: Mice or bats. Or owls. Or skinks. A large skink came from there once, and ran under the bed. This was an experience one does not forget. Armed only with a pink hairbrush, I trapped it in a shoe box (which it barely fit in, it was so ENORMOUS) and I ran screaming down the stairs and outside as I hurled it into the woods. I knew it wouldn't come back. What reptile in it's right mind would want to go through that again?  I am in awe of my own bravery and I wish this was captured on You Tube, because no one but my kids believe me. ( thanks, kids)

SKINK- Warning: Reptilian objects appear larger in picture than actual size.
However, disgust to fear ratio is deadly accurate. 

 It's not that I'm afraid to go there and finish the job, ( ok, yes I am, a little... ) it's just that I get sick of it all, overwhelmed by ALL THE THINGS. After a few hours of feeling proud and cleansed, with my Hefty bags of mangled toys on one side and my Goodwill piles on the other, the glow of victory begins to fade.  The smile and warm fuzzies I got from finding the little childhood treasures of my kids summer camp adventures and journals and discarded toys and tiny ballet slippers wears off. Memory lane morphs into Nightmare on Junkyard Street. What am I going to DO with all this?? There are some things you just can't throw away unless you have an ice maker for a heart - like things that were made for just for me or have handprints on them. Others items I keep because I am just being practical - after all, you never know when you might need an inflatable parrot and world globe with no stand and the calligraphy set some day, right?
Ok, back to work....