I’ve always loved taking pictures. There is something about looking through a lens and capturing a moment, because as a photographer you catch moments through your eyes. It’s a great way to remember an event, make a statement, capture a smile or a contemplative thought. With each shutter and lens adjustment, a story is being told. And the photographer gets to showcase that behind the lens and in the editing room. Whether it’s artsy, black and white, or bright, different aspects of the image are showcased and each tells a different story and creates a different feel to the image.
A camera, like a pen and paper, my phone, coffee, or my gymnastics choreography, has always been a part of me and it always will. (Hey, I like being creative and I like telling stories.) For the longest time, my favorite things to capture were natural landscapes/scenes. Taking pictures of that was like finding my own “Colors of the Wind.” If you listen, the land has its own story, and you get to choose which elements to emphasize in the editing process.
But with no formal training, never did I think I’d end up taking someone’s senior portraits. Yet, somehow, I ended up taking my brother’s. There is an art that goes into portrait photography, and I think you have to really know how to connect with your subject to get the best pictures you can. As someone who has had portraits taken, my best always occurred when I was goofing off and completely comfortable being myself with the person taking my photos. (S/O to Sincerely, Sims for taking my college senior pics, which are seen all throughout my blog.) And I had no idea what I was doing.
What I do know is it is incredibly difficult to take pictures of your brother who is a foot taller than you and hates having his picture taken. But there is something inherently cool and challenging about channeling someone else to get the best pictures you can.
Location? A. didn’t want normal senior photos, so we took them at a local park. He’s also a theater person and I wanted to find some sort of amphitheater to represent that – enter skate park and playground.
Props? Are there places for them? What’s the best way to lay them out? What do they represent? For A., it was T-shirts from plays and events he was involved in.
Poses? A. hates smiling and posing and aims to be different. Getting him to smile, much less hold a pose for more than one picture was a challenge, but it happened, sort of.
Clothing? I’m actually good at this one. I create an image every day I get ready, so it should be easier to figure out what somebody else wants. A. wore plaid and had long hair for the pictures we took in November (he was my guinea pig) and in February he had shorter hair and dressed like he was about to participate in League of Extraordinary Improvisers. Those were better because they reflected his personality. And he’d never have tried skinny jeans if not for me. The only thing I can’t fix is his hair. (That’s Mom’s battle.)
Pictures tell stories and that, like art, is what I love. Let me help tell yours as I tell mine.