I love to take photographies of random strangers.
I think it makes us connected a little more in this world.
When I started this job, my parents thought I wanted to take pictures of models and be a paparazzi in the streets of the crowded NYC. They never imagined I'd be taking pictures for important newspapers across the world and documenting the most horrifying scenarios the world hasn't even heard of it yet.
I didn't mind. It was my job.
I came back from Syria with PTSD. The news-agency I work for gave me a leave of the amount of time I want. Meaning, either you come back or you don't. I didn't have my own place to live, since I was always traveling, so I decided to get onto my therapy as soon as I could to get back to work. I asked my parents to stay with them as long as I keep one promise.
No more war sites.
I agreed, the experience left me with too many nightmares to describe and with too many ticks to ignore. I think I'd do what my parents wanted and be a wedding photographer. I was explaining just that to my therapist this morning.
"I guess I need to balance the bad with some good..." I had mentioned to her "You know, see that tears also come from happy moments and stuff..." Then, I'd grabbed my hands and mumble "I need to stop expecting death from the other side..."
My therapist thought it was a great idea ('With a great salary to boot!', my mother had mentioned at home), but she recommended first to get reacquaintance with my camera, as I had stopped taking pictures since my return from the East. It was in its traveling bag, staring at me from the desk I had tossed it against in a fear attack. My father had fixed it for me and even took out the memory card!
"Clean start" he had said.
Buying a new one was easier but I was a sentimental like that. So, I was with my old camera, walking down the road of my old neighborhood, looking for things to photograph. My index is twitching, but I can't focus my mind into anything that could be worthy of my first snap.
Finally, I see something that could take away my fear of the camera itself.
There was a girl, not older than me (though, thanks to my PTSD, I look much older than I am) that was tending her front yard. She had tanned skin, but the tan was perfect, though you could see the lines from the shirts and shorts she was wearing. Her clothes were dusted with dirty and looked so old they could fell apart any second. She was wearing gardening gloves and was digging a hole in the ground.
The analogy was simply and brilliantly explained by itself. And, without me noticing, I was taking pictures of her, gardening her yard. It was pretty simple, but it was a start for me. I left, not even saying a word to the girl.
~oOo~
I came back a couple of days later, after another session with the therapist. I told her about the gardening girl and how I snapped the pictures without even noticing. She congratulated me, but warned me that I should let the girl know what I was doing. That's why I was in the same spot than before, with my camera in hand.
I noticed a couple of things than before. Like, she was wearing a wedding band in her left hand. Like, how green were her eyes. Like how her hair was a mix between brown and yellow, making her look like a sun chameleon. I also saw her husband and her daughter, who came out of the house to give her something to drink.
Her husband was different from her. Obviously, he was male, but he looked as if he wasn't 'compatible' one with the other. His curly deep brown hair contrasted with her wavy one and his more light skin made him look pale besides her. He was smirking, as if he was about to steal something from you, but I could be my mind playing tricks. I gathered my courage and went to talk to them.
"Um, excuse me? Hi..." I started, very nervous. The man looked at me, with a raised eyebrow but he was more like inviting than threatening "Hi, um... I'm Abby and I, well... I accidentally took some pictures of you the other day..." I said, pretty lamely. It was the truth, in half.
"Oh" the woman said, not sounding surprised or even angry. The little girl was staring at me between her parents "Well, can we see them?" I blinked at her, surprised.
"I beg your pardon?"
"I want to see the pictures..." she repeated. I slowly handed her my camera and she watched the pictures with her husband. At first, I feared they would smash it against the floor or taking away the flash card so I couldn't have the oictures, but they shocked me with watching them. They even would say something about them once in a while, like 'you look so natural' or 'mommy, you're so dirty in the picture'
"I can delete them, if you want to" I blurted out. I really didn't want to, but I would if they didn't make a call to the police.
"No, they're pretty good!" the man gushed over them, making his wife blush "She hates taking pictures and yours make her look so natural... I'm willing to pay you for them-"
"Travis..."
"No, Katie. You look good and she's good. It's only fair" he argued when she interrupted him.
"If you don't call the police, I'll give them for free" I finally said, not wanting to get into troubles. The man looked at me and laughed, shaking her head.
"Travis won't arrest you and he'll happily pay for the pictures" the woman, Katie comforted me, only then I realized I had taken pictures of a police officer, in his house. That he had taken it with humor was even more surprising. They invited me in for some coffee and I couldn't say no. I talked to them for a while and discovered we weren't that different
I knew then I could get over it.
Everything will be fine...
----
Hello, guys!
First of all, I want to apologize for not posting last weekend, but I had/have a painting crew at home and, this past week, they had to work on my room, so I spent last weekend 'moving out'... You wouldn't believe the amount of things I NOW consider useless... I know it's an excuse, but I wish you could see pictures so you can understand my experience...
Onto another subject, last Wednesday was my friend Carter's (iamlillyherondale is her Wattpad, though I'm not sure she uses them any longer) 17th birthday! If you could wish her a 'Happy Be-Late Birthday!' I'd be grateful... She's not having a great time right now...
Which reminds me that Ashari Benturi's birthday was on my last post... HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY! I couldn't reply to you, as your comments appear as guest! Hope you had a great time!
Onto the subject you care now, I'd be uploading the chapters from Percy Jackson, son of Chaos and Mortals: Meet... 2 today that I owe you. Also, I was doing my math and I think I could be done with Mortals: Meet... 2 this next weekend *sheds a small tear* Such a wonderful time I had- NO! I'll give the 'goodbye speech' next weekend.
This means, I'll focus on my collabs, my request and Percy Jackson, son of Chaos and Mortals: Meet... the In-Laws for the rest of the month. You still have time to vote on my poll in Facebook (https://www.facebook.com/pg/SilverHuntresses/posts/) or go check Comments Are Poll, commenting which one you like.... and if you fulfilled your quota of comments there, send me a PM with the head: "Your Next Story Is..."
I wish you all a happy Sunday and that is fill with excitement!