Teen Tramples Dad, Crowds Cheer
Less than an hour after taking the camera around the yard, she came back and began uploading pictures to the computer. A few minor – and I mean minor – tweaks to the pictures (unlike my massive surgery to try to repair my hopelessly blurred images), and she began popping up brilliant images. One after the other. Almost every one was better than any I have ever been able to take.
Everyone oohed and aahed. They applauded. (Applause?! Applause??!! I never got no stinkin' applause!)
Sharp, rich images. Full of color. Centered! A little single minded in subject matter, but this is her first try, and at this age, pink is an important concept.
(She calls this something like Beauty Among the Ruins. Has to do with me, somehow. I doubt that I'm the beauty.)
Obviously, the camera has the potential to take good pictures. Obviously it’s a matter of operator skill. Obviously all my rants and raves against the #*%?@*%#@* camera and it’s *%*#@*%# blurry images were misplaced.
So, bludgeoned by these great pictures, watching my blog life blood ebb away with every seemingly effortless visual poem she uploads, shamed into admitting that it’s ME – not the camera or the lights or the table or that background or that plane flying overhead that’s causing everything to vibrate or…
What’s left to do with pictures like these? No, no, no, not delete them, punish her for using the camera without my permission, ban her to her room, etc., etc. But publish them!
Of course I'm proud, certainly outwardly at least, at least until everyone goes. I mean jeez - no training, her first try, no help from me (no help from me!!!) - obviously, all indications to the contrary, it must be in her genes!
Maybe she can give me a few pointers, when she’s not busy.