My umbrella got wet today. That’s what happens when I use it in the rain. I went for a bit of a walk to run some errands in the evening.
While walking with my umbrella, I thought about what makes umbrellas such a compelling image. It must be the symmetry. People like symmetry. That’s probably why broken umbrellas hanging out of trash cans are interesting to look at, as well.
When I was taking a photography course at SAIT, the instructor showed us a black-and-white image of a person jumping over a puddle while holding an umbrella. What made the image interesting was that it was taking from directly above. I’ve searched on Google for it, but I can’t seem to find it. It could be that I’ve conjured up the image in my imagination and it doesn’t actually exist.
When thinking about the photograph, the technical aspects of the image aren’t very complicated. The image is made visceral because the photographer had to wait very patiently for a long time to get the shot. It was planned for and might never have happened. The photographer was hopeful, and it paid off. This is made more poignant when considering that it was done using film.
Lately, I’ve been thinking about dusting off my camera and taking it out for a walk. I don’t know why I fell out with photography.
I wouldn’t say that I was ever very good at it, but I used to be keen on it. I really enjoyed taking pictures, processing them, and sharing them. I had to have had some connection to the photographs I took because I remember being incredibly nervous when I once put them up on the walls of my favourite bar.
I think the world looked different to me when I used to take photography seriously. It was framed in a certain way that it no longer is. In some ways, it was a more interesting place. Not only was it more visually appealing, but it was somehow quieter, too. When I was taking photographs, the feeling was akin to that you get when you listen to the rain hitting your umbrella overhead. It’s dampened.