My Side of the Camera
Last weekend, I went to a masquerade with some friends. We dressed up all fancy-like. We wore colorful masks. We arrived late and stayed late. We danced. You know the drill.
What was unexpected was the model shots. Rachel went crazy with her phone and took tons of close-up shots of everyone, which was fun until it was my turn. She was moving my head this way and that, and Nathan tried to help. Turn the corners of my mouth up a bit. Don't smile, but don't look sad. Tilt my head. Look up with my head. Look up with my eyes. Open my eyes more. Move my face more toward the camera. Do this, do that. Yada yada yada.
It stressed me out big time. I was starting to break a sweat. I felt so uncomfortable and self-conscious and not at all pretty.
It was then that I knew my side of the camera is solidly behind it. I guess I've known this for a while; I was just reminded of it this weekend. Let me take pictures any day; I'm actually fairly decent at it. Put me in front of a camera, though, and I have no idea what to do.
I don't enjoy being the center of attention for more than say, three or four people at a time and for a handful of seconds. (Ideally, I'd really only want to be the center of attention for one person.) This does not mean I begrudge people who like to be in the spotlight; in fact, I like to be part of the supporting cast. I like to help highlight the stars and the charmers. I just don't want to be a star myself. I feel okay about that.
Let's take a look at what I'm talking about, shall we?
Not a star
(See how I don't really know how to accomplish interesting poses?)
I did have some good shots, I guess, but the point I'm making here is that it didn't matter. Even if the picture was good, I was stressed about taking it. I have a much better time when I'm laughing, as I am in the following photo. Laughing is my favorite.
Thing I'm thankful for: weightlifting. It's feels good.