But a window on MY soul?

But a window on MY soul?

A lot of reflection going on at present… Taking pictures over the internet has been interesting, and has cast a lot of light on the things that I do and don’t do in my pictures. I’ve missed being able to use precise and subtle focus effects, and the large variety of lenses I often use to achieve them.

That’s the main reason that I have done very few self-portraits, rather than the camera-shyness most people blame. I’m at ease with being the subject of other people’s pictures, honestly. That’s not terribly practical at the moment (but do get in touch if you want to try it: I understand the technology reasonably well now, and I have all the kit to do it. Please don’t push my levels, though.

I have done some silly self-portraits, often related to haircuts. You can see a variety if you search for ‘self-portrait’ in my portfolio here. My favourite is the one I called ‘The Prayer of the Night Shepherd’ which just happens to avoid including my eyes. Is that because I needed to look at the rear screen to get the focus right? Or is it so that you can’t see into my soul?

The technical side is a big part of it. I like to use a very shallow depth of field, and tethered shooting doesn’t allow quite enough precision with choosing the focus point. The difficulty is that even switching the point one’s looking at from computer screen to lens may cause sufficient head movement to lose focus… And fan of older techniques and kit as I am, I don’t have a selection of head and neck braces lying around!

Thomas Holm, about whose ideas I’ve written a time or two, uses a wet-plate image of himself as his avatar on Purpleport. On his own website, he points out that he’s not really that scary, but staying still for a 17-second exposure is hard work… (So many things set off costly trains of thought: that portrait may have unlocked the concept of a full-spectrum camera. Have you ever seen an ultra-violet portrait?)

We always feel a need to do ‘something’ with self-portraits. Something to hide our real selves behind, whether it’s clothes, or activity, playing a rôle, or something else. Almost anything but staring straight into the lens, unblinking and vulnerable. Suddenly, the idea that taking a picture of someone is stealing their soul makes sense, in a way. Maybe it’s not so much the risk of theft, but of someone knowing what is inside me. I may be afraid of looking there myself…