While photographing a wedding over the weekend, I remembered why I don't particularly enjoy photographing people. There are several factors involved, the most obvious of which is my height. I'm a shorty and we all know the horror show of a photo from below the chin... yeah, we've all seen an image of ourselves from this unfortunate angle that turns even the thinnest person into the golden Buddha. Sadly, trying to suck in your bottom jaw doesn't work. Trust me.
Because of my stature, when the audience stands, I often lose a shot. When the couple dances, all I see through my lens is Great Aunt Bertie's lavender curls. Also, people like to talk to me, which I appreciate when I'm free to chat, but my easy approachability really sucks if I miss the cake cutting because that peculiar relative (you know which one, every family's got one) is intent on sharing the comprehensive history of cake fondant.
I prefer the details. The food, the flowers, the light on the edge of the waiting champagne glasses... oh, how I love to photograph these things. They tend not to move about, make funny faces, or sweat. Yes, leave the details to me. I forget and remember this about myself every time I pick up a camera.
When finding my bliss in the details at home, I need to remember to do it well before the wok is steaming and everyone is waiting to eat. I'm obsessed with food blogs right now, so the family may have to get used to a few ingredients going missing while I satisfy my muse. I'm sure they won't mind.