The hibiscus bushes on our yard are churning out shining miracles for my appreciative eyes, so I captured a few blooms with my little Pentax.
Real photographers would shake their heads, in puzzlement, if they deigned to watch one of my photography sprees: I can’t even see what I am taking half the time. I notice a composition I would enjoy capturing, but the sun shines on the screen in such a way that it is impossible to view.
I have become aware that, with a camera such as mine, the LCD screen is really only for show. It cannot be relied upon. Perversely, I cannot accuse it of malfunctioning (a picture is being taken), but it is anyone’s guess if the camera is actually shooting what I want it to because the screen cannot be seen.
Rather than risk high blood pressure, I have intentionally adopted a Zen attitude about photography and decided to just accept whatever images I do acquire. Admittedly, with a digital camera, I can afford my laissez-faire attitude because I can flood the camera’s tiny disk with a zillion near misses in order to get one bull’s eye. It’s akin to the way sperm operate. If you wonder how I made that leap, let me elaborate. I see, I want, I attempt to have what I conceived as the object of my desire. But because of the situation outlined above, consummation does not take place. My desire is thwarted, unrequited.
Nevertheless, I do not succumb to despair. If I cannot be a really good photographer (and so far, thankfully, that urge has not landed on my list or, perhaps, even on my skill set), then I will simply snap happily, oblivious to derision. And like the poor fighter who becomes an excellent runner, I focus my attention on the challenge of transforming my photos on the computer.
I am building up a dizzyingly large data base of images that work for me, to incorporate into my collage paintings and paper quilts.
It’s all part of the realization that I don’t have to do everything. More accurately, I can’t. I want to bestow my energy on activities that matter to me: like making art. My way.
I’m sure you get the picture (oh fortunate one, with an SLR camera).