There’s just something really special about capturing a frozen moment in time. A look, a smile, a moment that would otherwise fade from your cerebral structures.
I remember the first time I got to do what I’d seen my dad do time and time again. I begged to get a disposable camera that I could take along to my very first school camp. It was yellow and black and the most valuable thing I had ever owned. I was only ten so most of the pitcures were a mess.
But so began a tradition. Every camp that rolled around saw me getting a little camera to take to camp. For me it was about documentation, about having visual aids that would support the stories I’d tell my family. Getting photos developed was the most exciting part of the experience because by then I had long forgotten what I’d managed to capture and the developed prints would be a pleasant surprise.
I knew I liked photos. That I like taking them, seeing them and being in them.
A few camps later and technological advancement had changed the game up. At about 14/15 digital camera’s had become commercially accessible. Naturally I just had to have one. Who wouldn’t want to see their photo’s seconds after they’d taken them? It didn’t take much convincing to get my dad to buy me my first digital camera.
It was a thing of beauty. All those buttons and things that helped me not to miss.
Suddenly it became about more than smiley group photo’s. It became about landscapes and the extraordinary things that I saw around me. It became about the things that I wanted to capture. The things that I saw and how I saw them.
Over the years as the passion for the workings of the lens has grown, so has the need to do more than just capture frozen moments.
Now I want the composition, the subject and back/foreground to tell a story. To do more than jog my memory. For the narratives to extend beyond the self.
I think that’s what I hope to do. I’m still learning and very keen to do so. Still trying to figure it out.
To see a little of what I have done so far, visit: therebble.tumblr.com 🙂