In order to overcome the general stuckness that I feel I’m suffering from, I’ve decided to take to heart what the author says in ‘How to grow as a photographer’. One of the ways to move on, he says, is to re-educate yourself. I’m not sure if he meant that I should go to the extreme that I did, but it’s done. I’ve enrolled for a course in photography and committed to 24 weeks of learning photography all over again, starting right back with lenses, ISOs, appertures and shutterspeeds.
I’m still trying to get to grips with the (in)sanity of it all. The money that I’m spending on the course could have gone towards a new lens, a new website, a shiny new portfolio or a nice photographic trip up the coast. How much more will I learn? How much will it benefit me as a photographer? How much will it benefit me financially, in the end? And will it make me a better teacher?
Yes. That much is guaranteed. It will definitely make me a better teacher. Of course, the hardest part of being a teacher (of anything, I suppose) is trying to inspire people to go beyond just what they are able to do right now. And so it is that I will always have one student in the class who is anti … anti taking a reading, anti thinking about what the picture must look like before they push the shutter, anti following the homework brief. Ah well. There is only so much I can do. For the rest, I can only hope they they gain as much from the course as they had intended.
So, having completed Modules 1 and 2, and read again about what lenses are used in what situations, I had a photographic assignment to complete and submit. The brief asked that I select one item from my home and sit quietly with it, with my eyes closed. I’d love to try this one on my students! Sit quietly, my online lecturer says, close your eyes and feel the object. From this meditative exercise will flow an idea for photographing it.
So, there I sat, feeling slightly silly, fondling my red stilletto. Hmmm … and so a story grew …
A woman is geting dressed to go out for the night. She puts on her pair of red stillettos and is transformed. She changes from worker-mom-wife to vixen. She is inches taller. Her legs suddenly are long and toned. And, thus transformed from the feet up, the transformation continues past her thighs, past her hips; her spine becomes strong and straight, her shoulders thrown back, her neck arches beautifully as she tilts her face confidently to the man next to her. Her eyes sparkle like the champagne in her glass. Her smile is brilliant. She is empowered. She will decide when and who. She’s bold and confident. She leads him to her room and, in her own time, removes the magic shoes. She puts down the champagne and, with the magic of the shoes still coursing through her, she strips away the final barriers to intimacy, leaving them discarded on the floor.
And so, there is is. Clearly every woman simply must own a pair or spiky red vixen shoes.
Let’s see if they make me a better photographer, though!