Why it’s important to live in colour

In case you haven’t realised by now, I. LOVE. COLOUR. Wearing it, shooting it, finding it, heck, even eating it.   Like honey to a bee it just draws me in.  I used to consciously go looking for it to share in my photos but I find now that somehow it just finds me.  I know that sounds a bit lot corny but once I properly opened my eyes in my everyday wanderings, it turned out that colour was indeed everywhere.  I just had to make the unconscious decision to see it.  #woah #deep #iknow #butyoushouldtotallytryit!

While shooting colour is my passion, shooting myself is not {figuratively speaking}. Selfies and me. Yeah, we’re just not friends.  I mean, we used to be.  Great friends in fact.  When I was 18 and had an 18-year-old’s body but time and pregnancy and, well, no.  Camera says no.

So I was a little torn today when I stumbled across this fantastic art installation as part of the Kings Park Festival currently lighting up my fab city.   I’m not sure how the Bella Umbrellas got up there or how many there are {at least a hundred I’d say} but they looked fantastic and I had the crazy idea to shoot them from directly below, phone-on-the-ground-camera-inverted-type-job.

Fifteen seconds after taking this I was doing my best Mary Poppins impersonation next to these people.

It was at that point, phone on the ground, me hunched on all fours, pram abandoned and Mr O trying in vain to grab an umbrella next to me as people walked past {seriously so many people – it’s the entrance to the gift shop} that I saw myself in the upturned camera view, looking down as my phone looked up, capturing both me and the umbrellas above.

I should also say that at this point, I’d been out of the house for three hours, had been rained on, walked about 4km in the wind, did a class with Mr O and about 8 other kids which involved singing, reading and craft, and, well, just felt a bit frazzled.  I just wanted a coffee and a sit down for a minute or two, which is why I was really there in the first place.

Plus it was on of those mornings that started OK but then the vortex opened up and suddenly I needed to leave the house in 4.3 minutes otherwise we’d be late for Mr O’s class.   One of those mornings where, as a result, I got ready in 4.3 seconds, including “styling” my really-needed-a-wash-hair with heaps of hairspray and a headband, and my face with minimal makeup.

Everything considered, I looked and felt OK, just didn’t think I’d be putting myself in the picture.  But I did.  Albeit unintentionally, but I was there.  Looking at myself.  Was this a chance selfie?

I did stop momentarily and thought about just shooting the umbrellas, getting my stuff, grabbing Mr O and leaving the passers by {so many passers by!} and getting a coffee. But I didn’t.  I didn’t leave.  I didn’t move.  Even when the people’s feet were practically stepping on my phone.   You know what, I actually BASKED in it.   The colours and light were so pretty and even though you can’t see it here, the umbrellas were actually gently swaying in the breeze.  It was magic.

And, so, right there, I went for the selfie.  And of course, roped Mr O in for the action too. It started out promising, but, looking down, my hair was doing this thing where it looked like I had a growth on the side of my head…

We tried again…

And again…

And then I tried to teach Mr O to stand still, and further away from the lens…

Yes, that’s me there, trying to look inconspicuous!

It didn’t work but I LOVE that this did…

Just to clarify, that’s my knees in grey in the front…

I’m sharing this today because this crazy event, which was probably 15 minutes of our lives, showed me that life is too short to pass up a photo opportunity. Yes, including selfies.   I read stories all the time from people saying they’re not keen on being in photos, preferring to stay behind the lens.  I know I am certainly guilty of typing those words.  But you know what, who cares?  Ok, well other than the tourists who had to dodge me and my abandoned pram and camouflaged phone as I coaxed Mr O for “just one more”.

They possibly cared.  But not me, not Mr O.  Not my phone. We didn’t care. My phone didn’t break under the stress of taking a selfie from down low, sans makeup, frazzle on overdrive.

It was our moment and it was beautiful.  I actually don’t care about the series of events that led us to that very moment because it was an idea that I had and is now a memory I cherish.

So please, if nothing else, take that chance.  Get in the photo.  Take a few photos.  Surprise yourself at the result and keep the memory close. But, please, go one better… get that coffee afterwards too!

Are you a selfie lover or hater?  I’d love to say hello to the person behind the lens!



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