10:44 p.m. | 2005-05-17 Photography Is Definitely Not The Proper Creative Outlet For Me. Unless You Enjoy Pure Irony. As children, my three sisters and I were labeled by our parents. The original labels went something like this. The Strong One The Pretty One The Smart One The Princess. The first three? Born within three years of each other. For the record, I was the �smart� one. My younger sister came many years later hence we all thought she was precious as we were all, parents included, old enough to just enjoy a baby. Because of these labels, none of thought we were creative at all. But we are. Eventually, the labels changed and it looked like this. The Photographer The Illustrator The Writer The Designer Outside of myself � the Writer � none of us earn a living through our creative endeavors. And, me? Not so much. The writing I do at work is not anything I would consider �creative�. Yet we all pursue these things on our own time. Oddly, my employment comes the closest to those particular labels. My sisters? You�d be amazed at how diametrically opposed their occupations are to their best talents. Oh wait, I left out the fact that I�m probably my most creative when it comes to architecture. And, I must say, my job isn�t even remotely related to that field. Basically, I guess, we�re all creatively frustrated. Good thing that combined we�re all strong, pretty and smart princesses. But, I digress. My main point is that cameras and I don�t have a good relationship no matter what end I�m on. I don�t shoot good pictures and I�m not photogenic at all. In fact, when I am photographed, there�s often some sort of disturbance � technically speaking � that screws up the picture and irritates photographers. (For example, in my passport picture, I have a goatee yet I don�t have facial hair and all shadow effects were eliminated, in another picture my hair is inexplicably green and sometimes I have lots of freckles.) Whatever. Photography is not my medium. And as much as I try, I don�t snap good photos either. Sometimes, or often, my photos are accidentally offensive. The best example of that is when I took a snapshot of Big Ben in London about 20 years ago. Or so. Big Ben was getting a makeover at the time and wasn�t particularly attractive but I was determined to get a shot since I didn�t know if I�d ever visit London again. I took one shot, of course, since I always think I�m getting the best shot ever in that one frame. Yeah. When my pictures were developed MyDad was appalled. He told me to destroy the picture. Why? Because I snapped the shutter right at the exact moment that StepMom � whom I had just met at the time � was pointing at Big Ben. So, in the front of the frame is StepMom�s forearm and hand; in the background is Big Ben. Personally, I didn�t understand why MyDad�s face suddenly became ashen. Unfortunately, as it turned out, that picture highlighted StepMom�s �short� finger. At some point in her life, her finger was amputated. And she's sensitive about it. Frankly, I never noticed. (As it was my only picture of Big Ben, I still have it but I�ll never display it. Ever. Out of respect to both MyDad and StepMom.) I don�t know what happened to her finger but I do know that I instantly became self-conscience about it at the time. I purposefully never looked at her hands and always made sure that I didn�t include them in a photo. Consequently, because I was being so sensitive about StepMom�s finger, I promptly slammed all of YoungerSister�s fingers in the car door. (She was traveling with me.) Right in front of StepMom. They were both traumatized and I was horrified. MyDad? I think he wanted to beat me with a really big stick. YoungerSister was fine and suffered no physical damage. However, I think all of us felt the pain. What�s really ironic about it is that I never noticed that StepMom had a short finger until that photo and after I slammed YoungerSister�s hand in the car door, I�ve never thought of it again. In the last 20 years, if you�ve asked me if StepMom had a short finger? I would�ve said no. I mean, it�s never stopped her from doing anything and she doesn�t hide it. The only reason I remembered it tonight? A commercial that featured Big Ben. StepMom�s short finger is forever and ironically related to a really huge clock in London. Again, I don�t know exactly why StepMom�s finger is short but I do know that Big Ben is not behind that mystery. I don�t think it was an accident that the next time I went to Europe to visit MyDad and StepMom, my camera protested. The film would not stay within it. I think that was a message. A very clear message. Sad too though since I was attending the dismantling of the Berlin Wall. That was some great history that I wanted to record. However, I believed that my camera knew better. It did. Worked fine when I got home actually. It�s great to aspire, dream and achieve. But it�s wise to know your niche. Suffice it to say, photography is not mine. your thoughts? seed flower