4 minute read
Photographer-In-Training by Livia Alonzi (pg
"Photographer-In-Training"
By Livia Alonzi
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Being an only child, photographs were very common in my household, and I often found myself the subject of them. Every single move of mine was documented. My first steps? Yep. My first time eating ice cream? Yessiree. Taking a bath? You can bet on it! Photography was never a foreign concept to me, and it seemed like everyone I knew had a camera, whether it was a fancy one from Canon or just a regular digital one. It was only when my mom lent me her little silver camera, one I could call my “own” , that I picked up my love for photography and finally graduated from being the documented to the documenter.
I took that silver camera everywhere. To the park, on vacation, to weddings — I never left the house without it. Four-year-old me was surprisingly talented, as I would imitate my dad’s every move when he was taking pictures with his grown-up Canon camera. Whether it was him going down on one knee to get a better shot, turning the camera vertically, or covering the lens a little bit, I would copy every single action with my little camera with an astounding amount of ease. When he finally let me use his special camera, I was over the moon! I must have taken countless photos that day.
It was when my cousin Pina got married in September of 2008 when I had one of my most special and cherished moments with my camera. When I first laid eyes on her in her dress, I thought she was the prettiest person in the world. She had her reception in a huge ballroom, like something out of a Disney movie. When she came into the room, between the whimsical music and the magical lighting filtering through the banquet hall, she looked like a true princess. Her gorgeous gown was made out of the sparkliest, floatiest material ever. As she moved around, her dress would fan out, making it seem as though she was wearing a sparkly cloud. I loved it. I called her Princess Pina, and I took photos of her all night long! She didn’t even need to hire a photographer; I was right there, ready to do the work required. I thought my mom did a good job of dressing me, too, so when I went to the bathroom I snapped some photos of myself in the mirror. (Talk about taking a mirror selfie before it was cool!) - 23 -
As much as I love being in front of the camera, I love being behind it even more. Seeing the beauty in everyday life is so easy when you have the tools to capture it with. My mom has told me time and time again to start a gratitude journal, and my only response has been to just show her my camera: my digital journal. Taking photos has helped me stay positive throughout my life, even when the times were extremely trying (and, trust me, I’ve had my fair share of trying times). Taking pictures helps me see the wonder of every day; looking at the world through a different lens reveals the small, beautiful details that are often overlooked. It’s therapeutic for me. I feel so much better after clicking that little button. Moreover, I love taking photos because everything on my camera turns into a time machine. I can see family who are no longer with us; I can remember the marvelous memories, and even the awful. Sometimes I wish I could go back in time, re-entering the pictures that I once took. I would be five years old again, back when my biggest concern was figuring out what toy I was going to play with next; or all those times my mom took me to Canada’s Wonderland, towing me along in a little wagon; or family trips, either to the grocery store or halfway across the world. But the most I can do is just look at the photos and take some more, to immortalize the good times and the people who come with them.
Without a doubt, pictures are an important part of my identity. I don’t know who I would be without them. They help me see the joy of every day, and there is nothing quite like the
satisfaction of snapping the perfect shot. I can always expect to be cheered up whenever I pick up my trusty camera, as I know that I’ll be able to take a beautiful souvenir home with me soon. I am eternally grateful to my mom for letting me use her little silver camera that fateful day, fourteen years ago. I am grateful to her forevermore for being my subject, my model, the one who is most important to me. Whether I am happy or I am down in the dumps, there are two words that will never fail to put a spring in my step:
“Say cheese!”
