Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Why I'm a photographer. This relates to my previous post.

This sort of relates to my previous post.  I wrote this on my Facebook page last month.  (www.facebook.com/kkakesphotography)  I couldn't resist re-posting it on here. 

I was just sitting here reading an article that reminded me of WHY I'm a photographer.
  My mother died when I was 11 years old. It's been 17 years, and the memories I have of her are fading. But the pictures are still there. I was premature and the hospital pretty much told my family to say good bye to me. My father took a lot of pictures of my mother and I in the hospital. He developed them himself and put them into a photo album. The album was given to me for my 18th birthday. This album is my favorite "memory". The pictures tell a story. It includes an image of a close up of my mother's face framed by the opening of the incubator that I was in. The look in my mother's face is one that shows pure LOVE, yet worry and exhaustion. There is another image of her sitting in a chair surrounded by the equipment that was keeping me alive. Upon viewing the album with my father, he stated that she knew how to work each and every piece of that equipment and could care for me herself when the nurses were with other patients. My favorite is the one of my mother putting me into my car seat as they are leaving the hospital with me for the first time. I was over a month old. The album continues to include some images of my first year of life.
I have been able to share this album with my own children and they were amazed to see them. You see, they never met their grandmother. These images did not just show some woman they don't know smiling at the camera. They showed HER. Her emotions, her personality, and the love that she had for me. Their mother.
I know that as a photographer, I might not be taking pictures of people in the hospital. But to just capture a person's memories of their loved ones. To show the love they have for each other. That's why I'm a photographer.

1 comment:

  1. *correction: it has now been 18 years. It was 17 years when I first wrote this.

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