I kept switching my camera from one hand to the next, because it was heavy, especially if you hold it for a very long time. And plus, I don’t like having a strap.
M (my sister, and yes, I call her M) also had a camera, but it wasn’t as good as mine. She knew it too, and I’m not sure she was too happy about that. For one because she couldn’t afford what I had, and two, because she was fond of the idea of having as many pixels as you can possibly own. Her camera had this subtle pink-colored body with a standard black telephoto lens, which can take very detailed photos both at a distance and close up.
One thing she loved to do with that camera was draw little flowers on it, one each day. I didn’t understand that, because well, it’s a camera, not a piece of pottery.
Me and M went to the park one day and we took our cameras. and for some reason that I probably won’t understand, she loved to take pictures of the ground. I asked her why, and she said it was because the ground is something we always take for granted. Think about it, if it weren’t for the ground, how else would we be able to stand? and take pictures? and play soccer? and lie down? and dig holes?
So she said it was the least she could do was to thank the floor by taking pictures of it.
Me? Well, there’s something about flowers that strike me. Not because of their colors, or because of their smell, but of the connection between the flower and my ability of which I’m able to be awed by the flower in the first place. A flower is something like a relationship, an intimate one. No matter how physical it can seem, there’s a quality outside what is seen that is stirred within us and can make us do things that may not seem very ‘natural’ to the average human.
What is that quality? I don’t know for sure, but it’s there.
Whatever, they’re just flowers for cyring out loud.
The day was getting old, so I told M we needed to get back home. As we were walking back she was showing me all the new angles she was able to get of the road and of the grass-field that surrounded the asphalt.
I tried showing her the pictures that I took, but she became a bit annoyed that I wasn’t spending too much time looking at her photos. Well, they were nice…but they’re of the ground. I know I should be thankful (according to her), but it’s the ground . . . the ground!!
It was a bit distracting that one night she showed envy towards my more expensive, more megapixely camera, yet on the other hand, how much contentment she showed for something so mundane.
Maybe I’m just being a bit bitter for my taste. I’m sorry. M has always had an eye for stuff, even when we never understood her.
After all, she drew flowers on her camera. And I like flowers, because they’re everywhere, including in our minds.