5]
Memories
The final part of this set of five pieces. As I've mentioned, my daughter
Yasmin helped me narrow down what keeps me loving photography to five things, sort of. She then pointed out I couldn't waffle on about all five (approximately) things in one post, hence these five.
So, here's the fifth of five posts as a series "Five things that keep me loving photography." It's probably, for me, the most important aspect of them all; m
emories.
I really enjoy recording the oddities, banalities and joy of our everyday lives. These images, made for earning my living, are often meaningful to me. Hopefully they also have some meaning for other people. Toward the end of
his rant though Allen Murabayashi of
PhotoShelter hits the nail on the head for one of the main reasons many of us love photography. Our personal photographs anchor to, and reinforce our personal memories.
I've chosen just put two of my important* photographs here, somewhat related to each other though seperated by decades.
The blurry shot atop the page of a coal transporter getting stuck in Douglas harbour is mine. It's really a rubbish shot. But it's the first journalistic shot I ever remember making. I was very young. I was also very proud that I had my own camera; a Kodak Instamatic, cartridge loading and ideal for a fumble fingered five year old. My father's version of this scene, shot on an Exacta Varex 11a with a 35mm Biogon lens on Kodachrome was much clearer. But I still like mine more. A child's honeyed memory of a simpler time playing happy families.
The second is a bit more complex.
Again it's not one of the greatest shots ever. It's actually one of Yasmin's. She was about the same age I was for the earlier image. It was also made on her first camera, a 35mm Halina. The old man is my father. This was the last time he would see Yasmin, and the last time he was well enough for a family day at the seaside. We had a marvellous day, that day we went to Cleethorpes. Sand castles, candy floss, fish and chips and wet trouser legs from over enthusiastic paddling. I know I can remember this day, and so can they, yet this image enhances mine and Yasmin's memories. To watch her recently patiently and proudly describing the image to him was a delight as I realised that 1/125 of a second also enhanced my father's memories. Even though to all practical purposes his sight is completely gone. And in years to come Yasmin will be able to show that photograph to her children, and it will reinforce and help her share her memories.
Sometimes, when I've been stuck in front of the Mac for days I look at some of the images on my office pinboard and realise that even after all these years, I really do love photography.
*important to me
**Okay, it's much better than my effort.