Pictures

To be very honest, I do not like taking pictures. It is not only because I feel awkward when I take pictures of others, it is just that I hate the disruption in whatever communion I am engaged in. I never feel like I am in the periphery as a good photographer must I suppose. I am involved in what ever is going on around me and stopping to take a picture ends my involvement, or changes it significantly. To be even more honest, I think I am very selfish in this regard. I take pictures for others, not myself. When I am moving about, everything is so vivid and personal, I am not sure I want to share it with others. I hoard the smiles, frowns, laughter, sorrow, frustration, sunsets, quizzical looks, daily persistence, and the slow deliberate dramaturgy constantly unfolding around me. I am not sure it is mine to share.
However, I do need to document this adventure for the scores of family and friends who have given me so much support to be here thriving. To solve this small dilemma, I give the camera each day at the camp to a man who has become known as the photographer. He takes hundreds of pictures for me. Now, a new almost worse problem has arisen from this solution - each night I have to go through seemingly endless pictures of me with my mouth open.......................