Old Writing

Looking for something in my old Xanga account. A link to a video I made for class a while back. I wonder where it is. Anyway, came across this entry and thought it would be good to repost it for later.

Saturday, December 23, 2006

Watched over little cousins. Arrived at their house around 8:15am. When I got in, Camille came down from the stairs without a word and gave me a hug. Cute kid. Four years old. Generally shy around a lot of people. She's fun when there's less people though, gets a bit hyper. Like a monkey. Bianca and Camille gave me a tour of their house. Showed me the humongous blue bear I gave to Bianca a few years ago. I asked if they knew where they got it from, and she didn't remember. It was for her birthday when she was turning three; she's six now. I thought it was funny then because the bear was about as large as she was. Makes me wonder, if I don't see them for a while, would they forget me completely? How many memories have already faded? Not just with them, but everybody that I have known. I remember experiences with people that have probably forgotten my existence. I suppose that's one of the reasons I'm interested in photography. I can remember some images from the past, in clips and hazy vignettes. But it isn't complete, and some of the others don't remember it as well. The pictures help me piece everything together, and show people how I saw it. So then the memories will never be completely gone, there will always at least be that one frame, that one instant. Images of people, images of the world. Maybe in three years Camille will forget everything from this time. How she hugged me when she awoke, spun around as I carried her and danced, or how she said goodbye with so much sadness that it was hard for me to leave. Bianca is older, so her memories from now will last longer. Yet it worries me still. I'm beginning to discover an urgency for portrait photography. If only for my own sake. With growth and death, a person doesn't look the same after great expanses of time. I suppose it's morbid, but I want to get good pictures of everyone I know while I have the chance. In the way in which I see them. I don't necessarily have to be the photographer, but some people don't have pictures of themselves that adequately portray my vision of them. Kids grow fast, so they're the highest priority, right under those that are close to death. But in any case, there are some people that I would like to do a photographic study on. A documentation of sorts, with pictures at least every few months. More of a scientific approach in observing the visual growth, and also the development of emotions that can be evoked from the images after the years. Sometimes I regret being the one behind the camera. Years from now they'll have the picture and know they were there, but there's no visual trace of the photographer. I want to start getting more pictures of myself with people, but I don't trust many people for the task. I suppose there will always be that problem. Of course the picture isn't the person or experience, but it's something. And if I can pursue all these ends through photography, not all will be forgotten. I will leave what memories I can and share my vision--a fool's idealistic world of happiness and beauty.