If I look at every single photograph that I take, and have to see the sadness- even the extent to which a person is not happy, then I might not ever want to look at another photograph, ever. It's painful to stare so intently into a picture, adjusting and tweaking, and then realising that what's jarring about the picture isn't just a couple of technical components, rather it's the rawness of the soul that has been captured. Regardless of the fact that this was self-taken, and that hardly anything very impressive has been done to the photograph, looking at this photograph of my mother and I, can you not see how sad she is? All the years of wear, the pain, the strain, the worries and all the fears? The staleness in her eyes, the pursing of her silent lips, and all the years of hopes and anticipation all held within the complex of eyes- how can anyone bear to see more of such pictures.
It's crushing, and I never realised how blatant all these complexities were. Everyday I walk by her, I look through her, and I glance past her, never seeing, never noticing. But now, as I sit in front of the computer staring at her face as I edit this picture, I finally see it. I finally feel it. And I'm afraid. Finally, I get a taste of what goes on within the recesses of my mother's soul, and I'm not sure if I can handle it.
In all finality, this photograph frightens me. And I could cry.
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edit:
Photographs are indeed so incredibly poignant. I still can't believe how every portrait is so incredibly ridden with a powerful backstory; a history that is untold, unexplored and possibly even unknown.
I never thought editting photographs would yield such a revelation for me. It's indeed, truly quite beautiful.
! dug deep in the sand
