Friday, June 25, 2010

Not for the Faint of Heart

Over and over, in photographers blogs that I read, they challenge me with the question “why do you do what you do?” Like it is the big overpowering question, the quest in life, and if I can answer that, then all of my fears, qualms, wonders, struggles in having a photography business will be solved.

And I sit there and think, “well, damn.” I don’t have a good answer. That’s just what I do. Does that mean that I am not really a photographer? I won’t succeed because I have no passion? I’ve been doing photography a long time, do I just not care anymore?

I mean, I love colors, and texture, and composition. But those things aren’t really earth moving. This is really a question I’ve been struggling with for a long time. And it’s scary to admit that because I want to be one of those people who is totally inspired, and totally an artist, and totally 100% confident in their choices.

But then I see things like this. And I remember why I pursue photography. Because it is powerful.

Well, it can be powerful. It can display emotions—happiness is mostly what I see when I take pictures. But It can also show sorry. And hope. And tell a story.

I stumbled upon this slideshow a couple of months ago. I thought about posting it then, but it was so emotional for me, I didn't. But I've been thinking about it a lot lately. And I’m just warning you, I sobbed when I watched it. So if you are tender of heart, it might not be something you’re interested in viewing. 

It is a photographic documentation of the funeral of Gavin Norton, the baby of Natalie Norton, a photographer who lives in Hawaii. And it seems like a very odd thing that she asked her friend,  Jonathan Canlas, to photograph the funeral of her little one. But I think she did because she understands the power of photography. And she wanted the story of the love of her little boy to be told.

1 comment:

  1. That was powerful.


    I'm not really sure how you can really compare any shoot with that one. It was so raw, and there was so much pain juxtaposed with love of family and beautiful surroundings. The simplicity of the music was also a big element to the presentation.