May 10, 2012

5 Why I Hold a Camera: Part I

Today, as I took the dogs out, I started thinking about when I don't have a camera with me.  I haven't taken a picture since Monday- in fact, I haven't even picked up my camera.   This is partly due to working long days, the crappy weather, and the tedium of everyday life- but it's also something much bigger.
It's a vital part of my love for photography.
As I started writing this down, the backtracking got so tangented I decided to just start at the beginning.

*this intro was written on Thursday, May 3- right before the lamb triplets moved in next to our garden.  I picked up my camera for them.  I've been mulling it over since, but now it's yours. *

Part I
I've had at least one camera in my possession for most of my life.

It started with a 110 film Barbie camera, despite my not having been a Barbie girl.
(yeah... sorry about that song being in your head for the next month)
I'm pretty sure my mom got it on sale.

This is me- picture courtesy of Rebekah, my sister.
I have a picture of my sister taking a picture of me taking a picture of her,

I have pictures of my face reflected in windows,

I have pictures of giant soap bubbles.
(really. An entire roll of film.)

My mom, cheap frugal as she was, never ceased to hand me oblong, foil-packaged rolls of film. I never cared about brand, and didn't have a clue what an ISO was- I just wanted to take pictures.

I always had a camera (usually disposable; I was rather careless) at camp-
Girl Scout camp brought shot after shot of horses, campfires, and tiny braids in each other's hair;
Church camp brought double prints of twelve faces smashed into the frame at the pool;
Panola camp (a state park) brought 24 or 36 exposures of out-of-focus or overexposed trees, hawks, and mountain views.

In going through old pictures for this series I found:

 piles of pictures of family. My sister Rebekah (four years older than me) was a gymnast- I practiced my action shots;

my pets (some things never change)- this is Yougourt, my first rabbit. Yes, his name is spelled weirdly- I was barely six when I got him, and couldn't remember where the "o" and where the "u" went in 'yogurt'- so I put both on each side;

 pictures at Zoo Atlanta- more to come on that later;

and travel pictures. That's a Bahamian horse- and my thumb.

I lost not one, but two point-and-shoot 35mm cameras early on in high school.  One I'm fairly certain was stolen from my gym locker, the other I'm fairly certain was my own carelessness.

In 10th grade I started Photography I-
and a good friendship became a much more serious flirtation.


I'm going to continue this series for the next few Thursdays. If you enjoy it, hang in there, and if you don't, feel free to skip them.  Duh.

5 comments:

  1. I miss the excitement of getting your pictures developed. And the surprise thumbs in the shot.

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  2. I love taking pictures as well. Wish to take a course in photography one day, but until then I'm doing everything I can, reading everything I find on how to take a good picture.
    Your pictures reminded me of my own when I was much younger ;) Yup, a lot of happy memories and a lot of.. weird (or artistic, as I was calling them) shots.
    I'll definitely read this Thursday series!

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  3. Seeing these makes me want to sort through all my old family albums. It's so nice to be able to take a trip down memory lane. :)

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  4. I absolutely LOVE this post and can 100% relate. Pretty sure we have very similar childhoods. I need to go to my parents house and dig through my box of photos now!

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  5. I'm so lucky that my parents documented out entire lives and taught us the love of photos. Now, I just need to remember to PRINT my digital pictures. I haven't done that in a very, very long time. #forshame

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Thanks so much for stopping by! I can't wait to read your comment!

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