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The Camera Never Lies
She was a plain girl they all agreed but she didn't see it that way. Sure, she didn't have as pale a skin as they had, nor talk with the accent they preferred, but she had something. They all agreed she had that, and maybe it was enough to make up for the failings in other departments. Chest a little too flat, hips a little too wide, height a bit too tall. What did she care? That something was a twinkle of knowing mischief, the uncanny knack of being in the right place at the right time, and a charm that put people at ease. They couldn't quite define what it was made her special and not as forgettable as her looks allowed for, but she herself knew; it was her camera.
When she'd left college at eighteen she had known she wanted to be a photographer. Some people work all their lives trying to find the job that best suits them, and they're willing to compromise. They'll take the job they have just to pay the bills and do what they love in their spare time, but she didn't have to. She knew what she loved, and had known since her twelfth birthday when her parents bought her the second hand camera. It was the best present she'd ever been given then and since. And she still has it, and it still works it's magic on her life. It gave her that special something and empowered her with the vision it allowed her, emboldened her to push beyond what others saw. Her old camera took her places she dreamed of going, gave her access to sights she'd hoped to see, and instilled in her the confidence to be the person she saw she was not the plain girl they saw before them.
That first time she looked through the lens people looked different to her. She saw them in a new light, a more discerning way. It was like the veneer they had melted away and their masks slipped enough while she focussed to reveal their true selves. She felt things when she saw them, had an intuitive knack of knowing just the right place to be to capture the mood. The right lighting, the correct lens and distance, the way to zoom in or out to truly capture their spirit. Some found the photos too raw, too revealing and they scalded her for the intimate way she portrayed what they felt wasn't them. But she knew, she'd seen and sensed it from behind her camera, and she never apologised for the truth it revealed. All through her teens she honed her skills and practised. And she loved what she did and the lies she uncovered.
Sometimes something so small can give you the biggest confidence when it feels right to you. That's what her camera did for her. It wasn't digital, it still took the old film and she had to develop it and the process took time and effort. But those were all pluses to her, not the negatives that others often told her they were. If she listened to them she'd have ditched that camera and had a new easier updated version, all clinical and sterile with no intimate insights just a sheer reflection of what was portrayed. Her camera saw more, it bored into the spirit to reveal what was beneath, and she saw it and understood. She trusted what it showed her, and she navigated towards making people reveal more of those insights. Found that by chatting and asking, prompting and cajoling, she could get more out of her subjects. A certain position, an action or a surprise prop could throw them off balance and she'd be there to capture the moment.
She argued in her job interview for National Geographic that photographers were artists. A painter expressed themselves with colour and technique, saw things beyond what was being shown them, so they interpreted the composition in their own unique way. She didn't have the luxury of changing the picture like they did, as her camera accurately portrayed what was before it. But what she did was make that composition come to life as it truly was by stirring the subjects into responding to what her camera was showing her own eyes. It guided her, it had a voice and a magic all of its own. She knew she crafted the piece just as eloquently as a painter, a musician or a writer by interpreting the composition how she saw it. Her passion, along with her impressive portfolio of six years worth of stunning photographs was enough to win her a place on their exclusive team.
She packed her case, a small selection of keepsake photos and she was to be off and away to exotic or remote locations. While others were making their way through more education towards goals they were unsure of, she was realising her dreams and taking chances. It felt right and her parents were there to see her off and wish her well, and assure her home was always waiting. And she felt loved and lucky in equal measure, and went to take a photo to remind her of this wonderfully intimate special occasion. She set the camera to automatic and rushed round the front to hug her parents and take a memory she could treasure on her old reliable friend.
It wasn't until much later when she developed that photo that she saw the truth revealed. A tear fell down her warm cheek and she let out a deep uncontrollable sob. Not only were her parents mere shadows of themselves, but there beside them were ghostly white shapes of light. For all intents and purposes they were human in shape but indistinct. Any other person would claim they were just abberations of light ruining a photo. They would explain it away as something that happens, that it was merely a ruined photo that had been caused by a fault. But she knew. She trusted the camera to interpret her shot. She believed and sensed what it was showing her. Those were like spirits with arms draped around their children in a loving protective manner, just as theirs' were draped around her. And the fact her mum and dad's features were dark and blurred filled her with dread. An overwhelming trust and emotion in the danger she felt they were in consumed the pit of her stomach, and she dialled her parent's number right away. It rang and rang for an intolerable time and her nerves were completely on edge.
"Hello?" came the surprised answer, "huni is that you?"
"Yeah mum," she replied relieved to hear her mother's voice again," I was worried about you guys. Are you and dad alright?"
"Huni are you okay? you sound on edge. Yes, me and your dad are just heading out, we have a surprise party downtown at your dad's firm."
She started to feel that sense of overwhelming dread again and she really knew it was important she kept them talking.
"Is it something you can miss?"
"Well your dad's been promising me if I go he'll take me to dinner afterwards in one of those swanky New York restaurants. I don't think he's that bothered about the party, says he never liked the guy much anyway. Why dear, what's up? Are you feeling homesick?"
And a thousand reasons raced accross her mind, lies and more plausible excuses to keep her parents at home. But she knew she must whatever the reason.
"Yes mum, I need to hear your's and dad's voices tonight. I need to just chat for a while."
"Well we'll miss our ride, but let me ask your father, I don't mind eating local if he promises to still take me. Oh, he's nodding and smiling, says he'd sooner be chatting with you than that old goat from Marketing. Looks like you've got us huni...now what would you like to chat about?"
And it was as easy as that. She chatted till the feeling subsided and she felt the danger had passed. When she turned to the photo after the call it seemed perhaps it could have been possible she'd ruined it in the processing stage of developing the film. She doubted herself only for a second, and then came to her senses. No, the camera never lied to her, it only showed the lies others hid. It revealed truth and she'd interpreted it differently this time because she was the other side of the lens. And that night she was crying again when she switched on the news because her dad's voice from earlier was ringing in her ears.
"Look hun, don't worry, we were only invited out of politeness. The firm was having the party at the Head Office and I'd never seen it before so it was only curiosity that I was going to attend anyway."
"And where was that dad?"
"Oh one of the Twin Towers of the World Trade Centre."
© .Garry Saunders
#LifeChangingContest
When she'd left college at eighteen she had known she wanted to be a photographer. Some people work all their lives trying to find the job that best suits them, and they're willing to compromise. They'll take the job they have just to pay the bills and do what they love in their spare time, but she didn't have to. She knew what she loved, and had known since her twelfth birthday when her parents bought her the second hand camera. It was the best present she'd ever been given then and since. And she still has it, and it still works it's magic on her life. It gave her that special something and empowered her with the vision it allowed her, emboldened her to push beyond what others saw. Her old camera took her places she dreamed of going, gave her access to sights she'd hoped to see, and instilled in her the confidence to be the person she saw she was not the plain girl they saw before them.
That first time she looked through the lens people looked different to her. She saw them in a new light, a more discerning way. It was like the veneer they had melted away and their masks slipped enough while she focussed to reveal their true selves. She felt things when she saw them, had an intuitive knack of knowing just the right place to be to capture the mood. The right lighting, the correct lens and distance, the way to zoom in or out to truly capture their spirit. Some found the photos too raw, too revealing and they scalded her for the intimate way she portrayed what they felt wasn't them. But she knew, she'd seen and sensed it from behind her camera, and she never apologised for the truth it revealed. All through her teens she honed her skills and practised. And she loved what she did and the lies she uncovered.
Sometimes something so small can give you the biggest confidence when it feels right to you. That's what her camera did for her. It wasn't digital, it still took the old film and she had to develop it and the process took time and effort. But those were all pluses to her, not the negatives that others often told her they were. If she listened to them she'd have ditched that camera and had a new easier updated version, all clinical and sterile with no intimate insights just a sheer reflection of what was portrayed. Her camera saw more, it bored into the spirit to reveal what was beneath, and she saw it and understood. She trusted what it showed her, and she navigated towards making people reveal more of those insights. Found that by chatting and asking, prompting and cajoling, she could get more out of her subjects. A certain position, an action or a surprise prop could throw them off balance and she'd be there to capture the moment.
She argued in her job interview for National Geographic that photographers were artists. A painter expressed themselves with colour and technique, saw things beyond what was being shown them, so they interpreted the composition in their own unique way. She didn't have the luxury of changing the picture like they did, as her camera accurately portrayed what was before it. But what she did was make that composition come to life as it truly was by stirring the subjects into responding to what her camera was showing her own eyes. It guided her, it had a voice and a magic all of its own. She knew she crafted the piece just as eloquently as a painter, a musician or a writer by interpreting the composition how she saw it. Her passion, along with her impressive portfolio of six years worth of stunning photographs was enough to win her a place on their exclusive team.
She packed her case, a small selection of keepsake photos and she was to be off and away to exotic or remote locations. While others were making their way through more education towards goals they were unsure of, she was realising her dreams and taking chances. It felt right and her parents were there to see her off and wish her well, and assure her home was always waiting. And she felt loved and lucky in equal measure, and went to take a photo to remind her of this wonderfully intimate special occasion. She set the camera to automatic and rushed round the front to hug her parents and take a memory she could treasure on her old reliable friend.
It wasn't until much later when she developed that photo that she saw the truth revealed. A tear fell down her warm cheek and she let out a deep uncontrollable sob. Not only were her parents mere shadows of themselves, but there beside them were ghostly white shapes of light. For all intents and purposes they were human in shape but indistinct. Any other person would claim they were just abberations of light ruining a photo. They would explain it away as something that happens, that it was merely a ruined photo that had been caused by a fault. But she knew. She trusted the camera to interpret her shot. She believed and sensed what it was showing her. Those were like spirits with arms draped around their children in a loving protective manner, just as theirs' were draped around her. And the fact her mum and dad's features were dark and blurred filled her with dread. An overwhelming trust and emotion in the danger she felt they were in consumed the pit of her stomach, and she dialled her parent's number right away. It rang and rang for an intolerable time and her nerves were completely on edge.
"Hello?" came the surprised answer, "huni is that you?"
"Yeah mum," she replied relieved to hear her mother's voice again," I was worried about you guys. Are you and dad alright?"
"Huni are you okay? you sound on edge. Yes, me and your dad are just heading out, we have a surprise party downtown at your dad's firm."
She started to feel that sense of overwhelming dread again and she really knew it was important she kept them talking.
"Is it something you can miss?"
"Well your dad's been promising me if I go he'll take me to dinner afterwards in one of those swanky New York restaurants. I don't think he's that bothered about the party, says he never liked the guy much anyway. Why dear, what's up? Are you feeling homesick?"
And a thousand reasons raced accross her mind, lies and more plausible excuses to keep her parents at home. But she knew she must whatever the reason.
"Yes mum, I need to hear your's and dad's voices tonight. I need to just chat for a while."
"Well we'll miss our ride, but let me ask your father, I don't mind eating local if he promises to still take me. Oh, he's nodding and smiling, says he'd sooner be chatting with you than that old goat from Marketing. Looks like you've got us huni...now what would you like to chat about?"
And it was as easy as that. She chatted till the feeling subsided and she felt the danger had passed. When she turned to the photo after the call it seemed perhaps it could have been possible she'd ruined it in the processing stage of developing the film. She doubted herself only for a second, and then came to her senses. No, the camera never lied to her, it only showed the lies others hid. It revealed truth and she'd interpreted it differently this time because she was the other side of the lens. And that night she was crying again when she switched on the news because her dad's voice from earlier was ringing in her ears.
"Look hun, don't worry, we were only invited out of politeness. The firm was having the party at the Head Office and I'd never seen it before so it was only curiosity that I was going to attend anyway."
"And where was that dad?"
"Oh one of the Twin Towers of the World Trade Centre."
© .Garry Saunders
#LifeChangingContest
