A Photographer’s Conceit

I am not conceited, I swear. Though you may question that, if you actually peek around this blog, and see all those damn self-portraits. *sigh*

I think that perhaps the only people that could understand how a person that has numerous pictures of themselves could possibly not be conceited would be a fellow photographer. I personally suffer through these self-portrait sessions. I feel stupid in front of the camera. I behave badly. Yet I still feel the need to capture small moments…for me, I have a strange tendancy to document my hair changes. I know, strange. But I change my hair a lot. And I have fun seeing those changes. And sometimes…well, sometimes, I think it goes a bit deeper than that. I have been taking many self-portraits lately (or forcing hubster to take them while I bark orders at him on how to hold the camera). I have been going through a process of change. A change of heart, and mind. I can feel myself transforming, becoming someone that has been hidden away for too long. It is an interesting, and sometimes confusing and frustrating time, but one that I suspect I will be happy to have had documentation of.

So I suffer through these little sessions. I hate them. but what I like is that I can already see the changes. I can see a new glimmer in my eyes, and I like that.

*and may I proudly add—mr. hubster took this photograph. not only did he simply press the shutter, without my instruction, he actually focused and re-composed….I cannot tell you the level of impressed-ness (what?) I felt when I saw this shot. He knows the rule of thirds! He listened! Go hubster!!!


don't I look all healthy and stuff here? I do, right???? yes, well, hours after this photo was so expertly snapped, my throat hurt, and then it hurt worse….and then…….two weeks later I am just now recovering from the worst cold EVER.


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