The other day on a shoot; a particularly prop-heavy shoot, the make-up artists tapped me on the shoulder between shots and handed me her camera while donning a chef's hat that happened to have been discarded from the production and asked "Will you take my picture?"
She passed over her little digital camera and, without mugging or eliciting the presence of anyone else in the room - without even really smiling, she sat up a little taller, looked at me in a way that said "alright, go ahead" and, I took her picture. I handed the camera back, she inspected the shot, nodded in approval and the interaction was over.
I'm always struck when someone asks me to take their picture. Maybe it's because it has been so long since I asked anyone to take my picture. Maybe it's because I remember a time when I used to make this request rather frequently.
It has something to do with record keeping. It has something to do with self-love. It has something to do with youth. It has something to do with acceptance. But, the impulse in it's entirety defies categorization. Human, I guess. Photo graphic.
Anyway, it gets me every time. Like a tiny heart attack.
Blubbering,
Kate
No comments:
Post a Comment