My Life ... Without Pictures

If you are wondering what the title of my blog means, it is a concept I have often thought about, and was recently reminded about because I joined FaceBook and have been looking at photos of the people who are befriending me (mostly high school companions). I often look at people's pictures and wonder if they are accurate. I mean, are they smiling because they are truly happy? Or because the camera is there, and we've been trained since toddlerhood to "smile" for it? I can remember two photo shoots my family had taken when I was young. One was for my grandparents 40th wedding anniversary. (They celebrated their 40th instead of their 50th, because they were not sure they would live to celebrate 50 years. They made it to 60+.) What the photo shows: Church photo style, meaning everyone from the waist up against a blue background: Five kids, ages 12 to 2. Three boys, the oldest with longish hair popular in the seventies. Everyone has front teeth that are a bit to big for their mouths. (We grew into them.) Two girls, matching pink eyelet dresses sewn by their mother - one fair skinned with blonde hair in a bun on top of her head, the other obviously dark skinned with curly brown hair in a bun on top. A Father with eyes that turn down at the corners. A Mother with black hair cropped short, slim, also in a handmade dress. What the photo doesn't show: The Mother and Father had an enormous fight on the drive to the party (a common event - the fight, not the party) that ended with the Father threatening to hit the Mother with the back of his hand over the backseat (she always sat in the back seat, said the boys needed the legroom) if she didn't shut up. The girls crying quietly, the blonde one dying a little more inside. The boys silent. The fact that while making the dresses the Mother was short-tempered, yelling, jabbing pins accidently into the girls during the fittings because of her frustration. Crying while sewing into the night at her machine on the kitchen table.

Second photo, many years later: Bookshelves in the background at some professional photographers office. Same kids, however now the oldest boy is grown, married and has a two year old daughter with pigtails. The second oldest boy is engaged, and his fiancee is with us. Third boy in high school, as is the blonde girl. Brown haired girl is now much heavier, but has beautiful skin and eyes. Father, hair thinned, more wrinkles around the down-turned eyes. Mother, hair permed to a frizz, frozen smile on face. Everyone smiling. What the photo doesn't show: Mother and Father had huge row on way to photographer, photographer somehow wasn't performing to please Mother, who has saved grocery money for months to pay for this pleasure. Mother crying before, during and after photo shoot. Father furious. Not speaking before, during of after photo shoot, except for snide comments thrown to Mother before, during and after.

Shoot.

One of many times the photos from an event didn't match the events of the event in my life. So I am sceptical of the photos on my friends' websites and facebook sites. What really does their picture capture? Something someone wished to create, or a reality? A conjured family moment where everyone is smiling and the real hurt and suffering isn't showing? Or a real family that is really happy?

The only photos I love are those I capture when the person or object doesn't know they are having their picture taken. Those are the only pictures that seem true to me. My toddler happily complies; my six year old notices the camera and pastes on a smile. So I have to be sneakier to capture her essence.

So this blog is meant to be about my life... without pictures created; just the truth. Even if I have to sneak up on it.