Terror

My friend asked me to take her daughter's senior pictures. WHAT? Are you kidding me? My first instinct was to scream NO WAY and run. Senior portraits are a major deal. They sit on parents' mantels and hang on grandparents' walls for decades. Everyone sees them. They represent a person's entire adolescence.

Against all better judgment, I agreed to a photo shoot . . . on one condition: my friend must form a back-up plan, and I provided her the name and number of a professional photographer who specializes in portraiture. I prepared her for the likely scenario in which my photography attempts go horribly wrong and her teenager spends two days locked in her room crying and sobbing about how everyone else will have beautiful pictures in the yearbook, while hers is just a snapshot missing her head.

We settled on a date in late July, which gives me a little over a month to figure out how I'm going to pull this off. I'm researching and thinking and worrying and planning. My mind is filled with all things photographic. I vacillate wildly from cheerful declarations of "I can do this!" to thoughts of suicide.

Thank goodness, my eldest daughter is home all day on summer vacation. I can drag her outside and use her as my test subject.

Here is my first attempt, with no tripod or light reflector. I was just using a hand-held camera and trying out a couple locations and poses. I quickly learned that one needs to be careful of the ghost hand appearing out of nowhere.

Despite the smile, my daughter was annoyed with me because she didn't have a chance to put on makeup or even comb her hair. I assured her that these photos are merely for me to practice and learn from . . .

. . . and to post on my blog for everyone to analyze and give me feedback. Smile!

Dinner last night: crockpot cream cheese chicken

Exactly four years ago:

The Nursery BEFORE and AFTER