I look at the image of my 3 year old granddaughter’s twisted scowling face. Her facial muscles are as limber as the rest of her body. That face is one of her “don’t stop playing with me to take my picture” faces. That face is cute and all, but I don’t want to go looking for it again. My precious granddaughter is always right of course and with this she is more right than usual.
I often chastise myself, when she leaves, for not having more images of her on my cell phone to help cherish the visit and to be able to share more of her light with others. It is what grandparents are supposed to do, but my granddaughter is right. With her I like being there unfiltered. I want to savor the delight while I am having it and not be distracted by thinking of what I want the experience to look like from the perspective of some future time.
Experiencing the present by making it a priority to make a digital representation of it is of course everywhere. Every special public place is usually inhabited by devices recording it, by people who are not really all there. The same is true for more personal spaces, ceremonies and celebrations.
For some it is now true of the most personal of private places. More are having out of body experiences by sexting. With digital technology you too can be a porn star or at least have sex like one.
I am of the generation that was amazed by the instant access to what just happened, made possible by the Polaroid camera. The pre-digital age serious photographer could set up a “dark room” at home, to have control as to when their images would be available. The rest of us watched as film developing went from weeks, to overnight, to “in a hour.”
Digital image making was revolutionary. No worry about the cost of film limiting how many tries you got to get it right. If an image still wasn’t right, Photoshop could make it better than the reality was.
I am not good at things technical. I couldn’t deal with multiple lens and complex jargon filled directions pre-digital age, no good at it post the arrival of the digital age either. I don’t want to take a course in Photoshop for Seniors yet or probably ever.
I Iove my Apple iOS 4 cell phone camera, which is always with me, unless I forgot where I left it. My Apple iOS 4 loves me. |
I Iove my Apple iOS 4 cell phone camera, which is always with me, unless I forgot where I left it. My Apple iOS 4 loves me.
Cameras used to be something that you remembered to pack when going on a vacation. Now it is something I clip on my belt after I zip up my fly. It is an extension of the occipital lobe of my brain.
I have been diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease. It has slowed down my brain. It has me a bit off balance at times. It is harder to move when looking through a view finder, easy to be emotional moved by doing so.
I took a nice hike recently, in a State Park that has well marked trails. I took a video with my cell phone panning along the edge of a rock cliff. Sent it in a text message to my wife, just to let her know I was having a good time.
Gnarled pine trees, thick green moss, mountain ridge vistas, images just kept finding me. I knew from a sign post that I was heading towards a mountain stream. I could barely wait to see what images were awaiting me there. Then I grew impatient. Why was it taking so long to get there? Why had the Park Rangers that had marked the trail been so lazy. It seemed like I hadn’t seen a trailer marker in an hour. Oh no.
Luckily my cell phone camera works as a cell phone too. That day I was grateful for having coverage that allowed for calls to my wife to discuss how and why I would be home a little late for diner. I was grateful to hear the voice of a Park Ranger, who spared me all commentary as to why I got lost and was clear as to how they were going to find me. While I waited for rescue, I couldn’t believe my good fortune of being right next to a series of beautiful waterfalls. I might have been the only one that day to take some fine images of them. They are kind of hard to find, unless you are lost.
The trail I like to walk with my wife is broad and paved with asphalt. It runs a long a gorgeous reservoir. The reservoir provides New York City with some of the best municipal unfiltered drinking water on the Planet. It is patrolled by a large force of dedicated and well equipped environmental protection officers. It was early Spring. There was a foreground of drift wood, a mid-ground of multi – hued ice sheets. In the background rose the Catskill Mountains. I framed an infinity shot featuring the trail, a guard rail and the reservoir shore line converging in front of the distant mountains. I liked what I captured. Then there was an interesting tangle of drift wood. I liked the way the light was playing with the ice as a back drop. My cell phone camera doesn’t zoom very far. I was careful stepping over the guardrail with the No Trespassing signs to get a better shot.
It wasn’t until I got home and took another look at the infinity image that I noticed there was a head light and a vehicle in it. That was the patrol car approaching along the pedestrian path, driven by the stern officer that arrested me for trespassing.
I am so thankful that in this digital age I don’t need to spend money on film anymore. I had the one hundred dollars to pay my fine in court. I deleted the image of the drift wood. I didn’t like the way that one turned out. I kept the image of the approaching patrol car as a reminder that it is wise to not forget how a landscape is framed by the property owners while contemplating an artistic framing through the camera lens.
I and my cell phone camera are joined at the hip. Well at least I have a hip that the cell phone rests on below my belt clip. Like a gun slinger and his gun, we are ready for some action and there is action everywhere.
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I keep discovering camera effects by accident. I saw a tree I liked the looks of. I didn’t like the thought of going outside for an image. So I shot it through a dirty window screen. It created an impressionistic painting to the eye of this beholder. As long as me and my cell phone camera agree that an image is cool, that’s good enough. I spotted more trees from the outside of the house reflected in a window, yes, but refracted too. I have never taken psychedelic drugs. I don’t need to.
I and my cell phone camera are joined at the hip. Well at least I have a hip that the cell phone rests on below my belt clip. Like a gun slinger and his gun, we are ready for some action and there is action everywhere.
I like discovering images that appear within an image. We never see all that there is to see when we are looking. I have one of a sun set that got photobombed by mosquitoes. I wrote a poem about it:
“They swirl/they whine/announcing their intent/I wave them off/plead that they take their business elsewhere/soft kisses before the stab/itch left behind to remind/don’t trust them again/they need to eat/the ones they host need a new home/but why me/when I just want twilight’s glory/because I want too to tell this story.
My sister emailed me. “I don’t get the poem. What is up with the helicopters?
My cell phone likes my poetry. Don’t ask me how I know, I just know because we are close friends, my cell phone camera and me.
I am a man who has been socialized to cherish wanderlust and to seek new sights. My retirement savings strategy grossly undercapitalized my freedom of movement, but with my cell phone camera traveling companion we travel to exotic lands daily for a song.
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Photo credit: Getty Images