I got to work with real live models in my intermediate photography class today. Luckily we had a rare sunny day today.
Of everyone we shot, Kelly (pictured immediately above) was the most fun to work with. She wasn't polished by any stretch of the imagination (Kirsten -- the cool blonde above -- was a pro in the making), but Kelly's face was expressive and alive, and her personality shines through in all of her photos.
This may be how others see me, but it isn't how I see myself:
Others see you as fresh, lively, charming, amusing, practical, and always interesting; someone who's constantly in the center of attention, but sufficiently well-balanced not to let it go to their head. They also see you as kind, considerate, and understanding; someone who'll always cheer them up and help them out.
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I can't help wondering which is the real me.
After reading this entry where the author asks what it feels like to fall in love, my first reaction was to ask "Which time?" I've fallen in love more times than I care to count, but only two of those times have stuck.
The first time it was like curling up into a bed of clean fresh laundry, still warm from the dryer: it was soft, comforting, calming and soothing. The second time it was as if I'd unknowingly walked out into a middle of a lake, and upon finding myself up to my neck in water, suddenly discovering I could swim.
(This one was worthy of a re-post over here in Vox-ville...)
Being able to show a smile to the world is something that many people take for granted. Because of my crooked teeth, I've rarely been photographed with a full-on smile. I'm always posing with some half-assed Mona Lisa mug, hoping that my eyes, or the tilt of my head, or some other facial expression will make me seem happier, friendlier, or more approachable. There are a few photos of me where I almost pull it off, but even so, I've always felt guarded and reserved because I was so ashamed of my teeth.
In our society, smiles are currency. They are usually given freely and exchanged once people have reached a certain similarity of feeling. When you're walking down the street and someone attractive catches your eye, you first make eye contact and, in the very next instant, smile at the person to let them know that you see just how good they look. When all you can do is make eye contact, you're only giving half of yourself. In that instant where you decide to conceal your smile, you've managed to deconstruct the bridge between you and that other person. Speaking from experience, it's difficult to cross that gap once the connection has been broken.
Learning to smile for the first time in a long time is an unusual experience. I spend countless minutes in the mirror practicing my smile, posing this way and that, looking for my (new) best angles. I try a full-on, megawatt smile on for size, and then I practice a secret smile that will only be seen by a lover. I'm amazed by how quickly my teeth are moving, at the subtle changes in my bone structure, and at times I barely recognize the woman staring back at me from the mirror. I still have 18 months left of orthodontic treatment to go, but I'm starting to see a glimpse of what I'll look like at the end of this $5700 experiment. Regardless of the weight I've lost (and gained), regardless of how I style my hair, and despite the careful hand I use when applying makeup, nothing makes me feel quite as pulled together as a pretty smile.
I think I'm almost there.
In case you're interested, I've posted some initial thoughts about the Nokia N82 (obtained through the Nokia Blogger Relations program) over at cecily.info. The shot below was taken with the N82's 5 megapixel camera.