two rivers and a hammock
I can still hear their laughter bouncing across our woods, splashing into our stream and back across the front yard. Even now, while this hammock lays empty... I can still see their smiling toothless grins from this day. Summers in New England are like bits of gossamer woven together with sunshine and magic. We hold on tightly (to each other, to the seabreeze, to the joy) because just like childhood it passes in the blink of an eye.
I hold this moment with grace while balancing the camera before my smiling eyes. I fired off many shots in succession because of their agreeability in front of my lens. Days like this are fleeting: self consciousness creeps in more and more as we reach this cusp of boyhood. I can't help but find myself missing the days when the camera was much more an extension of our lives. It's now a delicate dance of permission and respect, playfulness and pondering. I seldom get this gift... yes, I bear witness to their bond, but the camera is not often allowed at this age.
But every now and then they allow me this. And I receive it with gratitude.
These moments dance before all of our lenses! We are all simultaneously watching our children grow up before our eyes. How do you move forward with photographing your children when they request it not be around? Let's share ideas and thoughts with each other today. And be sure to share with us your favorite summer moment from the weekend. Share it in the comments below and don't forget to tag your images #ssmoment in our OWP flickr pool.
Remember, we're kicking off a new feature here at Shutter Sisters: Photo essays. If you've got a collection of 6 images you'd like to see featured here as a photo essay, give us a shout. We love hearing from you and sharing your work.
Reader Comments (10)
http://www.marciescudderphotography.com/home/2012/7/15/liberty.html
http://www.flickr.com/photos/melissatalbert/7544833214/in/photostream
My youngest grandson as he goes through a serious of emotional reactions to learning how to play chess with his grandfather: http://suehenryphotography.com/httpsuehenryphotographycom/2012/2/21/learning-to-play-chess.html
http://www.flickr.com/photos/rslaflam/7582194970/
Never really thought about it.
I photograph.
Period.
Everyone knows.
Childhood does pass in the blink of an eye.
Did you know there are 940 Saturdays from birth to age 18?
Too short.
Too short.
http://exploringwithmycamera.blogspot.nl/2012/07/talking-in-photographs-part-3-portraits.html
http://exploringwithmycamera.blogspot.nl/2012/07/talking-in-photographs-part-3-portraits.html
though i know it's not true, i feel with most kids, and many adults too, i have this invisibility cloak that goes on as soon as i start shooting. i dont ask for poses or smiles, and in short time most forget about me and my camera.
and while sometimes I want and need that full-faced countenance to hold on to a moment, often all i need is a back or a hand, or a blurred bit of them. something that i think will feel far less intrusive as they inevitably become more camera aware and less tolerant.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/22487105@N06/7586194340/in/photostream
How to take photos of a child who's growing up? Well, my boy never hated it. You need to have mutual respect though. He knew how important it was for me to take those shots because I talked to him about it. So he wanted to hand it out to me. And I always asked for his permission to share the photos with other people. If you go to my Flickr account you don't find a photo story of his childhood there. Too private to be shared in public, we agreed about it.
The relationship between a mother and a child is uniquely intimate. You just can't go around holding a camera in your hands as if it was a weapon. I think it is good to ask the child what kind of photos he/she wants you to take. To see the camera as a toy you play with together, as a mode to caress.