Just tell me
10/10/2002 08:14 p.m.
If it were that simple. A closed mouth gathers no foot, which is a good point but not the one I am trying to make. I can feel what I want to say and somewhat think it, but I can't say it, especially if it is at all serious. If I'm just joking around or something mundane, I can be somewhat clear headed, but the moment it starts to hinge onto the verge of seriousness, I fall apart.

Earlier this week I was photographing a girl from my photography class, she is nice and we seem to be becoming friends. She is really nice and very pretty and easy to get along with. Anyway, we went into the studio together so we could help each other figure out how to work the flashes and meters. She comes in with her brother, who was her model for the project. And I didn't have anyone to shoot. I had a couple possiblities, but I figured I would end up taking pictures of myself, which was fine with me I guess. So she goes first and I'm helping out, moving lights and props, and she finishes up. Her brother is leaving and I mention to her that if she would like to help me out that would be great. She says yes, and I explain to her what I would like her to wear, so she left and got some different shirts.

When we started shooting I was nervous as all hell. I didn't want to tell her what to do, because I felt weird about it. I came out and told her that I wasn't really comfortable with directing someone, which is why I mainly shoot natural scenes. I don't need to tell a tree what to do, it is already doing what it can.
So she tells me, "I'll do anything you want me to do. Just tell me."

Now, I must point out, I said before that I thought she was very pretty. Well, looking at her through my lens, in the dimmed model lighting I realized she is not pretty. She is beautiful. I mean, I know she was posing, and trying to get into her "picture" face. But a couple times she was posing for me, her eyes just pierced through my lens and I was amazed. I felt like my camera disappeared, and we were standing face to face and she wanted it that way. No camera, no project, no one else, just me and her, I could see her clearly, she reached out and touched my face lightly and I felt a burning in my chest, the good kind that I haven't felt in awhile, everything else burned away into the deepest black of the Zero of the Zone System and we were alone.
Then the shutter would open, the flashes would trigger, and I would lose sight of her for 1/80th of a second. After the model lights came back we would be in the studio, my camera on a big steel tripod, the crappy art building's industrial style ceiling overhead, and what felt like a mile of space between us. I blinked, stood up and realized the burning was still in my chest.

I wanted to tell her what I had seen, what I had felt. How truly beautiful I thought she was. But I didn't. I couldn't. It just wouldn't come out. I can be a complete idiot in class all day long, cracking jokes, being a goof ball, and talking about class and fucking stabbings, shootings, and bombings, but as soon as I would like to tell her I think she is gorgeous, nice, or a hundred other things, I clam up.

Just tell me,
If only it were that easy,
If only I could.