It’s totally true what my photographer-friend says about pictures. You have to take quite a few to get that "one" — like the picture of my two darlings in the previous post. What photo galleries and pretty blogs never show are the forty-two other pictures of the pastry/antique treasure/handcrafted thingy/cute-sleeping-children that are now sitting in the computer’s recycle bin (okay, pics of kiddos probably don’t wind up in the bin).
As a blogger, I sometimes chuckle at the process–especially the matter of what I choose to photograph. Stripped of the context of blogging, I’d have some explaining to do (after all, I’m not a photographer, stylist, or designer). My non-blogging husband doesn’t flinch anymore when he sees me hunched over something like a plate of biscotti with my camera for ten minutes. But sometimes I’m aware of how personal and somewhat awkward the business of blogging can be when I imagine explaining to someone outside the blogging community why I’ve just whipped out my camera for diapers or pumpkins or file folders, for heaven’s sake. The only thing more hilarious is the sheer number of pictures I wind up taking of said diapers and pumpkins and file folders.
Of course, in the end all the hunching and posing and tweaking and obsessive choosing from dozens of pictures for the sake of telling a story is perfectly worth it. Now please tell me I’m not the only blogging dork who’s privately (well, now publicly) mused about this.
eta: obviously, I actually love the above picture – it’s just not the one that I wound up picking for the birth announcement.