It sounds like the photos ... of things... is a beautiful and meaningful series. You will be so glad you have those.... and they, too, tell a story. So sorry for your loss.
Bill, Oy vey. I am so sorry to hear of this. I understand to the extent I can. I photographed my grandmother pretty much my whole life and even when I lived with her as her health declined and then passed away. I did photograph her after her passing and my family. For me it was a way to process. Sometimes it might have felt like it was exploitive. But I've photograph my whole life and I show 5% of what I photograph. Actually learning to stop taking photos is something I'm working on now. (Says the man with 88,060 photos in the icloud...) I probably will visit the photos on my hard drive...maybe in the future. Maybe not.
I really appreciate this processing piece of writing. So so sorry Bill.
Bill, Thank you for sharing this. I am so sorry. It is a profound time in one’s life, and I believe those moments are most strongly represented in our mind. It's a tall order to capture such emotion, and try as we might, we can only ever achieve a glimpse of the experience. For that reason, I prefer to put the camera down, and be as present as possible. The camera allows me to disassociate from the full experience, become an observer, rather than a participant. It sounds like you endured the full experience, which is harder. Rest assured, your mind will hold on to what is important.
So sorry about your dad, Bill, and this was a lovely remembrance. I wish I could have met him. Funny how photography becomes a tool for interpreting your life, even in the act of deciding when not to make a picture.
I'm sorry for your loss, Bill. I find that I almost never photograph intense emotional moments - that I can only wear one hat at a time and to be there for those moments, I'm not capable of composing an image. My granddaughter almost a month old, and though I've taken my camera to see her on multiple occasions, I never get it out of the bag. I didn't photograph either of my parents' last days. I admire people who can do both at once - be in the moment emotionally and still see the image to be made, but that's not me.
It sounds like the photos ... of things... is a beautiful and meaningful series. You will be so glad you have those.... and they, too, tell a story. So sorry for your loss.
Bill, Oy vey. I am so sorry to hear of this. I understand to the extent I can. I photographed my grandmother pretty much my whole life and even when I lived with her as her health declined and then passed away. I did photograph her after her passing and my family. For me it was a way to process. Sometimes it might have felt like it was exploitive. But I've photograph my whole life and I show 5% of what I photograph. Actually learning to stop taking photos is something I'm working on now. (Says the man with 88,060 photos in the icloud...) I probably will visit the photos on my hard drive...maybe in the future. Maybe not.
I really appreciate this processing piece of writing. So so sorry Bill.
Thanks so much, Theo. I appreciate your thoughtful comment!
Bill, Thank you for sharing this. I am so sorry. It is a profound time in one’s life, and I believe those moments are most strongly represented in our mind. It's a tall order to capture such emotion, and try as we might, we can only ever achieve a glimpse of the experience. For that reason, I prefer to put the camera down, and be as present as possible. The camera allows me to disassociate from the full experience, become an observer, rather than a participant. It sounds like you endured the full experience, which is harder. Rest assured, your mind will hold on to what is important.
Thank you so much.
So sorry about your dad, Bill, and this was a lovely remembrance. I wish I could have met him. Funny how photography becomes a tool for interpreting your life, even in the act of deciding when not to make a picture.
Thanks, Jay. I appreciate it.
What a beautiful, revealing description of your thoughts and feelings and of this moment. Thank you for sharing. I get it.
So sorry for your loss Bill
I'm sorry for your loss, Bill. I find that I almost never photograph intense emotional moments - that I can only wear one hat at a time and to be there for those moments, I'm not capable of composing an image. My granddaughter almost a month old, and though I've taken my camera to see her on multiple occasions, I never get it out of the bag. I didn't photograph either of my parents' last days. I admire people who can do both at once - be in the moment emotionally and still see the image to be made, but that's not me.
Thanks so much for your comment, Scott. Congratulations on your granddaughter!