Not so photogenic ...

by Lorraine Bartlett / Lorna Barrett / L.L. Bartlett

I love being behind the camera, but I hate having my picture taken. I like seeing pictures of myself when I was a lot thinner. (Well, except for wedding pictures.  Then I was TOO thin.  We're talking skull head.)  Still ...


There were times when I should have had my picture taken and didn't.  Like with my Dad at the nursing home.  I remember his last good day.  The physical therapist was taking pictures of him and my mom and I said, "No!  I'm too fat."  So now I don't have a picture of me and my Dad on his last happy day.

I had an epiphany earlier this year when I realized there are virtually no casual pictures of me from the last ten or more years.  (There aren't any professionally taken pictures, either.)  I'm not thin enough. I'm having a bad hair day.  I LOOK MY AGE. (That's the killer right there.)  But then ... I realized that, well, pictures are part of life.  Hey, back in the Victorian age, pictures were also a part of death.  Is there anything sadder than the family scraping together their pennies so they can have a picture of their only (and deceased) child?

So ... I've let Mr. L take some pictures of me.

Like on our anniversary.



Like me and my Mum at his mother's 100th birthday.



I don't think I'll ever be comfortable in front of a camera, but at least I'm giving it a try.

Do you avoid the camera, too?