Why???

“Can I just ask you one thing?” said the man behind me on the subway stairs.

“Ummm…sure, I guess.” I replied.

“Why???”

“Why…what?”  I was confused.

“Why take that picture?”

Pause.

“Well, why not???” was my answer.

There was a time in the not-too-distant past when my insecurity would have prompted a hostile response to such a question.  And true, it was still a little smart-ass, but I laughed and invited the man to laugh with me.  Which he did, albeit a bit sheepishly, and said:  “Well, I guess that’s as good an answer as any.”

Damn right it is.

My husband wanted to know why I didn’t give the man the same explanation I gave our group when I finally caught up with them.  Why didn’t I tell him that a certain quality of light, texture, composition, etc…grabbed my attention?  I told him that while I didn’t believe the guy was really trying to be obnoxious, he never stopped walking away from me, and I was hardly going to trot after him to defend myself.  Obviously he didn’t care that much about the answer, so why knock myself out?  I was busy–I had a shot to take.

Had he caught me a few years earlier it’s likely I would have stared pointedly at his waaay too small t-shirt and replied that I could ask him the same question about his sartorial selection.  Yeah, I was pretty prickly.  Fortunately I’ve a better sense of my own self-worth now and better control of my snarky impulses.  Very boring, I know. 

But I continued to think about it.  Why is it okay to ask me that question in the first place, when they don’t care enough to stop walking and hear the response?  I love it when people are curious about what I do or have questions about my tools or process.  I’ll discuss it with them as long as they like.  But why is it okay to intrude on an artist’s personal moment just for the hell of it?  I can just imagine the reaction I’d get from some poor beleaguered mother if I walked up to her and asked:  “Why?” as she’s yanked in two different directions by screaming toddlers.  That’s sooo not okay, even if we do catch ourselves thinking it.  C’mon–you KNOW you’ve thought it.  Just admit it.  I won’t judge you.

"FLW Hanger" by Jamie Powell Sheppard

Consider the photograph above.  There I am in this incredible Frank Lloyd Wright chapel, and I’m photographing a hanger.  Granted, it’s a hanger silhouetted in a FLW art glass window.  But still, it’s a plain old plastic freaking hanger.  Several people slowed down as they passed me and gave me funny looks–it was easy to tell that they were curious and confused.  But they were also polite and didn’t want to bother me.  Had they stopped and asked, I would have been glad to tell them that the scene reminded me of what FLW design is all about–a combination of function and simple design.  I would have told them that it appealed to my quirky sense of humor, and I wouldn’t have begrudged them the explanation or been bothered by the question at all.

So…why?

Because it’s there.

Because I can.

Because I’m pretty sure it was following me earlier and I want documentation.

Sigh.  I miss the snarky-ness.

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Hot Girls with film cameras!

"Porsche and Gazebo" by Jamie Powell Sheppard

Okay, so some of you are about to be disappointed by this post.  (You know who you are!)  No, you will not see any photos of hot girls with film cameras.  Read on, if you can forgive me, and you’ll see where I’m going with this.

Of course there are females who prefer film photography, but the male percentage is definitely much higher.  I believe this is true for photography in general, although the gap is slowly closing.  My position is that if film companies really wanted to do something to increase their film sales they’d run advertising campaigns featuring hothotHOT girls using film cameras, reclining with film cameras, etc…  Hey, it worked for the automobile industry!

The other day I wandered around with one of my vintage film cameras and took note of the reactions I drew, and while I wasn’t surprised at the results I still found them kinda interesting.  The women hardly gave me or my camera a second glance.  The guys were a different story!  There wasn’t a single one that didn’t at least do a double-take at what was cradled in my hands, and most of them stopped for a closer look.  Patrons enjoying the patio seating at a local grill ended up grouping around me to ask questions and get a better look.  These guys ranged from those who’d obviously seen better days to well-dressed corporate types.  As I approached the grill they were separated in their own little social islands, but they all shared what must be an inherent male love for gizmos, and even after I moved on they continued the discussion with each other–no longer separated.

I’ve joked about this before, but obviously there’s also something to it!  I’ll continue in the same light-hearted vein and admit that I wonder how many guys use this as a built-in excuse to talk to cute girls.  “Hey, no, I’m not a desperate perv!  I find your camera very interesting!”

Female photographers get ready to throw bricks at my head in 3…2…1…