I have an incredible desire to shoot people.
My favourite is to sneak up on them and then shoot them before they even know what has hit them. In my ideal world, I would be hidden, watch them as they went about their daily tasks, the manner in which they interact with someone or something, focus and then do it.
When I am unaware that I am being watched, I act differently as I am sure we all do. My posture is a little more relaxed, my firm masculine rippling biceps are less noticable and my hair a slightly rustled and unkept look about it. Photography has the ability to capture in a single frame a thought or emotion the naked eye might not notice. I have seen photos that have made me smile, others that make my heart burst with pride (a photo shoot of my girls and I) and then those that make me cry. The photo I have included of the man to the right is my Dad. It says so little and yet it tells an entire tale and it is one I tried to ignore for so long.
When my Dad was first diagnosed with Parkinson's Disease, I noticed the minor changes and simply accepted them. The change came when it started to affect him physically and in particular his brain and memory, I entered a state of denial and felt an incredible battle inside me. I refused to accept that this was happening to him and as such I missed out emotionally on a journey I now regret.
My divorce was one of the biggest emotional blessings I could ever have received as it forced me to face my emotions and express these foolishly flippant farcical feelings. I embraced pain, discovered a side to me I had forgotten about and learnt to connect with my girls on a level I had never known. I also realised that my Dad now, ill as he is and possibly with very little if any recollection of me, was all of and even more of the Dad I had ever dreamt him to be.
When I last visited my parents in September 2011, I had the privilege of watching and chatting with this man. Even though the conversations were stuttered and not always complete, I enjoyed them. I had the pleasure of seeing him through the lens of a camera and capturing moments I will forever carry with me. I also witnessed again my Mothers amazing love for her husband as she cared for him well beyond all human expectations. Her never ending care and constant compassion for the man she still loves so dearly after 47 years of marriage has kept him alive and active. I can never explain the pride and love I have for this incredible woman.
And so I continue to shoot people, special people and in a sense attempt to captivate that glimmer of magic in a world where hope is alive, where love definitely flourishes and the human spirit will not die.
Nite All
My favourite is to sneak up on them and then shoot them before they even know what has hit them. In my ideal world, I would be hidden, watch them as they went about their daily tasks, the manner in which they interact with someone or something, focus and then do it.
When my Dad was first diagnosed with Parkinson's Disease, I noticed the minor changes and simply accepted them. The change came when it started to affect him physically and in particular his brain and memory, I entered a state of denial and felt an incredible battle inside me. I refused to accept that this was happening to him and as such I missed out emotionally on a journey I now regret.
My divorce was one of the biggest emotional blessings I could ever have received as it forced me to face my emotions and express these foolishly flippant farcical feelings. I embraced pain, discovered a side to me I had forgotten about and learnt to connect with my girls on a level I had never known. I also realised that my Dad now, ill as he is and possibly with very little if any recollection of me, was all of and even more of the Dad I had ever dreamt him to be.
When I last visited my parents in September 2011, I had the privilege of watching and chatting with this man. Even though the conversations were stuttered and not always complete, I enjoyed them. I had the pleasure of seeing him through the lens of a camera and capturing moments I will forever carry with me. I also witnessed again my Mothers amazing love for her husband as she cared for him well beyond all human expectations. Her never ending care and constant compassion for the man she still loves so dearly after 47 years of marriage has kept him alive and active. I can never explain the pride and love I have for this incredible woman.
And so I continue to shoot people, special people and in a sense attempt to captivate that glimmer of magic in a world where hope is alive, where love definitely flourishes and the human spirit will not die.
Nite All
Isn't it so sad to see our beloved parents withering before our eyes. But out of this suffering you have come to appreciate more deeply what a wonderful mother and what a wonderful father you are so priveledged to have as parents. I remember how passionate your dad was about marathon running, and how when he visited you in Joburg, we took him to Varsity Sports to buy (Or look at)a particular pair of running shoes. I often think of the hospitality extended to me by your mother -Not that I deserved it! They are good people, Bro Ted, and they too are priveledged to have a son who reveres them and appreciates them and above all loves them as you do. I can hear the lyrics of that song by Mike and the Mechanics... In the living years.
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