I hate having my picture taken – I feel so naked; so exposed; so vulnerable.
More so, I hate editing pictures of myself – the crooked nose; the wrinkles; the blemishes; the pimples. Ugh – there is so much to be critical of. So much to dislike.
Yet, in honour and thanks to those who have so willingly offered themselves up as subjects of my photographic pursuit, it is only fair that every now and then I become the subject of my own critique.
This photo was not planned. Rather, it was the product of a test in my makeshift studio. It is by no means perfect (see the somewhat akward stance and odd shaped lips that seem to quickly disappear on one side), but then again thats not the point of a test shot now it is?
Despite its many flaws there is something about this image that intrigues me; something that makes me wonder what I was thinking at the precise moment the shutter opened. And that, I suppose, is the beauty of photography. Its why I love making images; not just taking pictures.