The Joy of a Good Photographer

I’m not a big fan of the ‘Selfie’ possibly because I need my glasses to take one and I still manage to cock it up. Fortunately eldest child is a photographer, not sure why I said that the truth is he takes sports photos. Not of me naturally, I’m probably the least sporty menopausal woman you’ll ever encounter. My idea of sport is being able to balance a cup of hot chocolate on my stomach while flat on the sofa watching a Cary Grant film. This is a skill I’ve perfected over the years.

Eldest child went to college to learn how to take photos, well there was other stuff on his course but the truth is he loved taking pictures. Again not of me, that is until he needed some pictures for a project of ‘older people’ it seems in his world menopausal equals older.

‘I need to take pictures of awl people’ this was a statement made at me.

‘Ask your grandmother’ well I thought I was being helpful

‘Ah shur lookit mam you’ll do’

So I was to be recorded in a project titled ‘Old People’

He erected massive lights at various angles around a chair in the living room. There were light reflecting things and tripods and cameras,  cameras which I can confirm cost more than my car. He twiddled knobs and checked his computer then adjusted lights. I must confess I was very impressed it all looked very complicated.

‘Right do you want to sit there’ pointing at the chair

‘Oh wait should I brush my hair or some lipstick’ I asked as any would be model would

‘Ah for what, just sit there and look at the camera would ya’

So I was to appear in the old person project lipsticksless.

I did as I was directed, sat and looked at the camera, shur lookit I was looking at the wrong camera.  Not only that I was talking which seemed to irritate the Irish Lichfield.

When I finally figured out which camera I should be looking at, he’d changed cameras and oddly I could sense his frustration with me.

So then I was asked to stand behind the chair, then beside the chair, then on the chair I obliged as I was sure this would be my one and only modeling job.

I sat and smiled till my poor face ached, he scratched his head and sighed rather a lot.

‘What are you doing’ he demanded

‘What do ya mean what am I doing.  I’m modelling’

‘You look like a grinning corpse’

‘Well if I’d be allowed to put some lipstick on I’d look different’

That was it, he wasn’t impressed with is old mother. It seems he’ had enough of me and my antics.

‘You’re not taking this seriously’ he declared

At this point I started to laugh and the best shot of the day was me looking like a menopausal Chinese woman.

I never did make it into the old people’s project.

The joy of a good photographer ..

 

 

 

 

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