northern

In my last entry, I listed 20 random things about myself. Although it took awhile to think of them, it was actually pretty fun once my mind got going. And feedback from people was nice as well.

One thing that people kept mentioning/asking about was the fact that although I used to be a decent, somewhat-trained photgrapher, I barely touch a camera anymore. People were curious as to why.

Okay, here's the story.

When I was a kid, I inherited a wonderful camera when my grandfather died. In fact, a whole bunch of photography equipment - lenses, filters, tripods, a bunch of stuff. Keep in mind that this was many years before any sort of digital cameras existed. This was a good old-fashioned film camera. And a real camera, not some point-and-shoot camera. This was a camera that required work to use. I managed to figure some of it out well enough to take some pictures. Not great pictures - too many dials on the camera to figure out.

A few years later, I was somehow selected at school to attend an art camp. I have always thought I was an odd choice since I have no artistic abilities. Not only can I not draw a straight line, I can't draw a curved line either. I can look at art and know whether I like it or not. I can even talk about why I like it or dislike it. But I can't create it. Even at that young age, I wasn't artistic.

But I was "gifted". Yeah, the whole high IQ thing. The school tested some likely prospects and what do you know, I had a Mensa-worthy score. Mind you, for the next few years, I was in the gifted class, part-time, thankfully. On the one hand, it was cool, two days a week I was bused to a different school, so I missed my regular classes. And some of the stuff we did in the class was really interesting - a lot of reading at a higher level for example. And reading comphresion tests, which I thought were pretty cool. Yeah, I was weird even as a kid.

It could also be quite boring. For example, we had to write haiku's. I know that a lot of people like them. For me, there could not be anything less interesting. I suppose it was some exercise in language skills, but it was just plain boring to me.

Anyways, I figure being 'gifted' was how I got selected for art camp. I was one of only a few at my school selected. And it meant missing two weeks of school, so that was cool. Perhaps they figured that since most gifted kids were supposed to have some sort of artistic ability, that maybe if I were immersed in a camp for a couple weeks, I might actually stumble across some talent in myself.

I selected photgraphy as my 'major', which meant I got about four hours a day of teaching and mentoring in it. And it wasn't just taking pictures. It was selecting the right film. And finally, someone to tell me how to properly use all those settings on the camera. Cool stuff that taught me how to take pictures in the dark without using a flash. And how to develop my own film. That was really cool. And surprisingly easy. We even got to build a darkroom from scratch. And we got to use all those great chemicals and equipment to develop proofs, select prints, enlarge pictures. Even neat things like air-brushing.

And, guess what? I was good at taking pictures. I was apparently quite the natural at it. I had an eye for it.

Who knew? It turned out I had some sort of artictic ability afterall.

For the next couple years, I would happily snap away at anything that caught my eye.

But a combination of things started to interfere.

One was the cost of film. Actually, film is dirt cheap. It was the cost of developing the film that was getting in the way. My dad wasn't the most supportive parent in the world. I suppose if I had taken up some sport, he would have gladly paid any price to see me excel. But not something pointless like photography. He bought me some books, and that was that. But a darkroom? Keep in mind, it's not like we didn't have the space (just the bathroom would be fine) and we had the money for the equipment and chemicals. But I was apparently now at the age as a teenager where if I wanted to do it, I had to pay for it myself. I didn't have the money. So, over time, fewer and fewer photos were taken, and my skills got a bit rusty.

At the same time, something else was happening to me. It would be years before things would add up, but in retrospect, you could see the signs.

I've never really liked being noticed. I mean in the sense of actually having attention drawn to myself. Of actually having people look at me. But in my teens, it got worse. Looking back, maybe it was an early sign of the paranoia that would help define my schizophrenia. But I got very uncomfortable doing anything that made people look at me.

When you're already an awkward teen, a social misfit, taking along a real camera gets you noticed. Everyone else has a regular camera, and I have this relative behemoth with lots of settings on it, and people start to ask questions, and it draws attention to myself. And I felt even more awkward. At one point, I even joined the photography club. Lasted one meeting. Same with the yearbook club. As soon as I had that camera in my hands, I felt like all eyes were on me.

Was I being paranoid? Of course. Yes, it got some notice, although it was positive notice, people wanting to see this fancy camera. But positive or not, it was unwanted. So over time, the camera got left behind more and more often.

I would break down and buy an idiot-proof camera - the point-and-click kind that everyone used. But by then, it was only occassionally that I would take pictures. Most of the time, the camera was left at home, usually without film even. There were exceptions. I got some great photos of the very monet that the Toronto Rodney King riots started when the peaceful but angry protests were interupted by Nazi skinheads. And what do you know, I was standing a few feet from them. Great pictures. And over the next few hours, and days, I would fill a couple rolls with pictures of the rioters, the damage, the "Public Order Unit", and all that fun stuff. Admittedly, the pictures would have turned out better had I been using a real camera, and had I kept my skills in practice.

Several years ago, I bought a digital camera. It's not exactly a great camera. It seems to be quite tempermental most of the few times I've tried using it. So I have this expensive digital camera (well, it was expensive when I bought it - now it's almost an antique) that takes decent pictures.

Do I use it? No. I still feel very awkward taking pictures. I live in an area where I am literally surrounded by pristine wilderness. Where if you look, you can see deer, moose, bears, etc., and after a decade here, I don't have a single picture. I don't have any 'before' pictures of when I had my weight loss surgery. I don't have pictures of special occassions, or mundane events. The great thing about digital cameras is that there's no film to develop. So it's not like it costs me anything to take pictures. If I don't like a picture, I just delete it.

So, that's my long-winded explaination of why I haven't touched a camera in ages. Mind you, when I look at people's picture folders here, full of pictures, and mine, with basically none, I do feel a slight urge to pick up my camera, if only to fill a folder or two.

I read the photography group here sometimes, figuring that might give me a bit of a push too.

It's been ten years since I started getting treated for my schizophrenia. It's been a very difficult time. I'm slowly re-orienting myself to deal with my new reality - the things I can or can't do. It's a seriously difficult balancing act. When I talk about how big a deal it is for me to go to an SG event, it's because for several years, I haven't done anything social that was simply for the sake of being social. I've done stuff, but always with some sort of purpose - going to meetings for this or that committee. But not purely for the sake of meeting people.

So, as I find myself anew, I'm sure that picking up my camera will require the same kind of effort and determination, and will probably be worth it. Give me some time - I'm determined to get there.