Narrative Essay On Snapshots

“Warning: I’m not very photogenic.”

This warning has been thrown at me from literally every person I have photographed. I make it my goal to prove them wrong.

My grandpa taught me everything I know about photography. Taking pictures was his side job to earn a bit extra money to help support his family, but it was also his hobby and passion. Nearly every Sunday when my family would go over to visit after church, my grandpa would snatch one of us to go take a few snapshots in the backyard. When my siblings and I were only toddlers, he would have my grandma come out to give him bunny ears to help paint smiles on our faces.

When I was 7, I got a handheld digital camera for my birthday. It was the coolest gift I had ever received! I immediately pressed the power button and took snapshots of everything around me in the restaurant, including some unappreciative costumers. I experimented around with the zoom toggle switch and different amounts of flash for lighting. At home, I would spend hours in our backyard capturing magenta and violet flower from various angles. Every evening, I would run out on to our deck to get the perfect picture of the sky melting into bright reds, oranges, and pinks as the sun hid behind Mount Adams.

As I grew up I never ceased to work on my photography skills. Every time I went camping, before I packed a sleeping bag or

I ramble on about random nonsense that makes them feel like I’m the weird one. This seems like a strange technique, but there’s value behind self-deprecation. It makes the subjects feel comfortable and confident when they see that I’m the awkward, idiotic one. When I demonstrate poses for them to replicate, I do so in a silly, overdramatic way. Then, as they replicate my stance in a less extreme fashion, I also catch a real smile on their face. Yes, I am a ridiculous clown. But yes, it produces magnificent