Sunday, January 10, 2016
Younger
Fresca requests baby photos, so like Crow, I comply. All the ones I have on hand have been posted here before, but I'll just stick 'em all in one. No question my mother took a lot of me, I still have shoeboxes full. She had a good eye, in another time she may well have had a career. Probably why I still love them, they are really good photos from the cheapest cameras. B&W helps a bit.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
9 comments:
These are wonderful, Z. Your photos suggest that even then you were introspective, curious and caring...and had happy moments
Photos tell so much about us, more than most of us realize. Sometimes it's easy to see why indigenous peoples didn't like being photographed for fear the image stole their souls or stripped away the masks they (we) wear.
I would have liked living next door to you, I think.
Oh, Crow,
Yes, I'm sure we'd've been great little friends.
Pratchett mentions this, that photos actually do steal part of one's soul. Maybe the best ones also reflect some back as well.
i love these. the third one is my favourite. isn't it amazing to look at the little people that we once were from the perspective of time? thank you for sharing.
I love seeing these! Thanks for playing!
Wow--no kidding---your mother had a great eye:
these are unusually good childhood photos.
Of course, she had a fantastic subject--
look at you, being so gentle with the dog...
and offering flowers, and pondering something in your hand--a bit of nature?
You look very much like the sensitive soul you are in your blog.
pc,
We are all there already, whole, but unmarked, unscarred.
Fresca,
The dog was Boy, a neighbor's dog who roamed the neighborhood. The back of the other photo has the word 'ladybug' written on the back, in her perfect cursive.
I keep looking at these, and wondering how my father could shout at that child. Still makes no sense.
Nice to see a winter picture in there - this is not normally one of the settings in a group of photos.
"Ladybug"! Oh, perfect for you!
I think I see it there, close to your little wrist.
The idea of yelling at this child is just *almost* beyond comprehension (it would be entirely beyond comprehension, except I know how stupidly brutal humans can be).
To begin with, (though this is the least of it), yelling at such a tender little thing is so ridiculously unnecessary:
She looks like she would be very happy to be helpful, should you let her know what is wanted (or quite likely she'd be sensitive enough to figure it out herself--as evidenced by her future success with cats!).
I wish I could immobilize those bullies who hurt such innocent creatures.
It really does look like a little you.
Extraordinary how that works. :0
Phil,
Agreed. Winter was always such a huge aspect of my childhood, glad there were photos taken.
Fresca,
Of course, he was a hurt child himself, and hated the vulnerability in others. It's true, though, I was a child who wept at a stern look.
Pacian,
Yeah, weird eh?
Post a Comment