The Hunter Does Not Like Being Hunted.

This past weekend, my family and I had the pleasure of celebrating my parent’s 50th wedding anniversary.  My sisters and I threw them a wonderful party, over 100 people showed up and a good time was had by all.

There were a lot of pictures being taken.  My husband and I alone generated almost 80 pics throughout the afternoon.  Upon reviewing the images I have and the photos posted on FB by my cousins, I did a lot of cringing.

I hate getting my picture taken.  I feel raw and exposed and uncomfortable in front of the camera.  I usually try to do something “goofy” as the photo is being snapped, to try to mask my insecurity and discomfort.

Why?

A camera, when in my hands, can act as both my weapon and my shield.  I am a soldier, a commander.  I follow the rules of light and shadow and the order of subject and exposure.  The scene before me, no matter what I am looking at, is mine to capture and conquer.  However, once you take away my armour, my first instinct is to run and hide.

No, I’m not a complete sour-puss.  I just really dislike the way photos of me turn out.  My  mouth is never right.  That bump in my nose is, well, there.  And, by the way, it’s true that the camera adds pounds to a figure.  At least it does to mine.

Besides all that, the “Photog” in me always thinks I could have shot it better myself.

And I do prefer to be in control, thank you very much.  It’s no secret that I perfer to take my own pictures of myself either.  (further evidence of this can be found in my collection titled:  “Daily Reflections”)  This is the ultimate in photo-taking control.  After all, who knows my “good side” better than me?

But I am a harsh critic of myself.  I think every body is, when faced with a photograph of oneself.

~“am I really that fat?”  or, “Good GAWD, what a bad angle” or, “my hair is so…ugh”~

…so on and so forth…

Ah, yes…caught off guard, and frozen, in an instant of time.  Forever held, on display to whoever, whenever.  (and I’m talking the one-eyes-closed-mouth-open shots.  The ones you appear to be saying “duh?” in.)

Relax, I tell myself.  It’s not THAT bad.  After all, if there’s one thing the digital age has brought us, it’s the Delete Button.

thankgoodnessforthedeletebutton.

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