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My friend Cara leaned over to me that night to comment that I seemed quiet. I replied that my husband had oddly said the same thing to me earlier that day. Suddenly feeling like I should offer up an explanation, the truth was that I didn’t have one. While I’m usually fine at holding up my end of the conversation, that night I guess I just felt like observing. Which can be admittedly awkward.
Except that it wasn’t. Because I was with great people. And great people don’t require you to perform.
Also, I had my camera, which is a huge security blanket for me. As someone who is a closet Introvert, I love my camera for all the expected reasons: she allows me to re-tell stories, she empowers me with the ability to share my perspective.
But sometimes I love her just because she’s something legitimate to hide behind. She’s an understandable, even condoned way of becoming invisible. And sometimes (frankly) it’s freeing to sink back and let stuff happen… without being responsible for an outcome.
How about you? Do you ever personify your camera? We’d love to see your examples of what she (or he) means to you.
Victoria says
Great capture!
These days my camera is my memory. With four kids it helps to have something to document, and remember.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/6riddles/4582550727/in/set-72157623017471431/
camerashymomma ~ meredith winn says
oh maile, this photo, it’s like i knew it was yours before it even finished uploading.
and these words, i feel them through and through "But sometimes I love her just because she’s something legitimate to hide behind. She’s an understandable, even condoned way of becoming invisible. And sometimes (frankly) it’s freeing to sink back and let stuff happen… without being responsible for an outcome."
i miss you!
xo
Marcie says
‘An understandable, even condoned way of becoming invisible’.
I couldn’t have said it better myself. My camera allows me to see and observe from a distance without having to participate. Perfect!!!
Like this swan…hiding out in the grasses:
http://www.marciescudderphotography.com/index.php?showimage=1176
Cindy says
I’m an amatuer still learning how to use my camera (Nikon D40) and didn’t think I personalized it until I read this post. I remembered twice in the past week saying out loud to it while trying to take some photos "please see what I see" and "show me what is there". I guess if I’m talking to my camera I’ve given it an identity! lol
georgia says
i really get this. even though i am only an amateur, i understand what you are saying.
last year, when i was in florida on vacation, i felt this way… i think my in-laws were even beginning to notice and wonder why i was so quiet and always taking pictures… maybe even almost resentful at times, thinking i was being anti-social.
i had just lost my job, and had just gotten a new {used} camera. so my emotional state was that of wanting to just be quiet and observe and see things through my camera. even on the beach, i had my camera with me and sat back as a silent observer… and as the photographer of the group. but this was good for me. and i got some good pictures as a result, i think.
http://itsjusthowiseethings.blogspot.com/2010/05/florida-10-people-2.html
Heather says
I never really thought about my camera this way – my GPS yes…because she has a voice and a name (it’s lola if you were wondering) – but not my camera.
But I guess i have used my camera – many times as a way to give my kids freedom but still watch over them.
Note: This shot seems much more trecherous than it was (and there were adults close by but out of the shot) but me and my camera were the observers.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/htekmo/2625953647/?edited=1
Deirdre says
I like this post. Good thoughts here. I have so many things to say in response to this, but every time I start it gets a little too long. I guess this is why I really ought to start my own blog. To summarize — my camera is like a tool for relaxation or recharging for me. I am a social person, but to be that way, I need time for me, and my camera allows me to step back or away. I have friends who meditate or take a bath to relax. I surrender to my camera. This photo epitomizes one of those moments for me: http://www.flickr.com/photos/superdewa/4573199399/ , but I’d say 90% of my photos are taken in that "mode." I haven’t personified my camera in the same way as you, but I’ve never been a person to do that, but my camera is an entity in my life, much greater than the piece of plastic, metal, & glass parts that it actually is.
DawnS says
What my camera means to me…
http://everyday-glimpses.blogspot.com/
Jessica @ j-woodphotography says
I consider my camera new born baby. I am very protective over it and hardly let anyone handle it. I am still undecided on it’s sex and name though.
Jamie Solorio says
I am a total rookie, but my camera means so much to me. It is a way to capture and save those fading memmories. Even though I think to myself, "How could I ever forget…" It happens! With my camera I can always remember. Another thing I love about it, is that when one of my children makes a huge mess or does something that normally wold have my blood boiling, I still want to document the memory. So, by the time I get my camera out and take a few shots…I am good, remembering all the crazy stuff I did as a child at the same time. ๐
This is a cute shot of my oldest making quite the mess all over herself.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/49026977@N05/4624678018/
http://www.jamie-solorio.blogspot.com
Suz Broughton says
I can so relate to this. I use my camera as a shield–as an excuse sometimes to be invisible. I mean we can’t be charming **all** the time, right ๐
Suzanne says
She is my armor.
My other girlfriend. I always called my computer my boyfriend… I was single and spent more time with him than myself sometimes.
But my camera allows me to see things without the emotion, without the sadness of seeing a homeless lady at a benefit and realizing who she is. I see it all as art… beauty from behind the lens. My camera protects me so I can see something for what it is without the emotional baggage included.
Jen at Cabin Fever says
My camera is my other half… besides my husband. I make sure we have quality bonding time. Its good for the soul ๐
I explain it a little here: http://www.cabinfeververmont.com
And my photo blog: http://www.nekphotography.blogspot.com
joey says
I think my camera is a boy, but probably because that’s mostly what he shoots. He is pretty much my other baby.
http://sea-bass.blogspot.com/
Ma' says
I, on the other hand, believe that anyone who knows how to aim and shoot and hit the heart of the matter is the least introverted soul. This is the soul who sees, stalks, and captures the illusive truth; then has the courage to proclaim it before us all. Sometimes the truth is freeing; sometimes disturbing; sometimes just plain delightful… But your camera is a voice unto itself. The voice that invites others to acquaint themselves with their own voices. And before you know it, you’re standing before a chorus of voices sounding like rain; or thunder; music; worship or… prayer.
Your quiet moment is the arc of a wave. That soundless sunlit, blue glass crest… just before the crash and hiss of breaking onto shore. Your quietness is what others paddle out on their boards to greet, knowing if they catch the power behind your contemplative moment, they’ll be hanging ten on glory too.
AnnikaChristine says
Well, I call her Anouk….
spencercasa says
if i could fold my camera up and tuck it in my heart i would. i am in LOVE with it. i still can’t believe i was able to finally purchase it. a friend let me borrow her canon 10D for a long time and when she had to take it back i literally thought i was going to cry. i kept telling my husband "but it was my friend."
when i was able to get my own camera a few months ago i cried when it arrived in the mail. i was in disbelief that it was actually mine. i’m not sure of it’s gender yet. have to think about that one.
me and my camera watching a sunset. i think my camera is a "she" ๐
http://www.flickr.com/photos/23196640@N03/4561303003/
Valerie says
Sometimes the camera lets me pull back just enough to gain much-needed perspective. Looking through the lens, the distractions fall away and I find peace. The process is often as wonderful and as welcome as the product.
http://journeyleaf.typepad.com/journeyleaf/2010/01/seeking-peace.html
Marci says
Thank you for this beautiful post. I believe personification of my camera may be what my photography is missing. After all… pulling that camera to my eye and looking through that lens…. I am always hoping that I will see and create what is in my heart and soul so that I can save that moment forever. I could never do that with a piece of metal but I could do that with a piece of my heart and soul. Thank You.
Blessings for a beautiful day filled with beautiful moments.
Marsha says
I’ve felt security behind my camera & it’s like a part of me, like an appendage. There are times at family functions when I just like to sit back & observe. My mother was watching me & commented on how I would look around & then suddenly take a shot. She got a kick out of watching me & I often hear her bragging about my photos.
Julie says
All my life I have been someone who is an introvert, and gets nervous at parties or in large groups of people. When I started shooting pictures, I quickly learned to disappear behind my camera. I was always amazed at the emotions that I could capture in my photographs. There’s something about the reaction of sharing a picture that you just took of them. There was something about it that allowed me to be part of the group, but still step back into my comfort zone. Sometimes I simply feel lost without my camera.
Debbie E says
oh I so love this photo,,filled with warmth and love ๐