I am not what I would consider photogenic. The minute a camera lens appears, I generally hide or if that isn’t possible, I pull a face that is somewhere between gastric discomfort and mania of some description. However, I have noticed more and more recently – and I don’t know if this is a by product of getting old – that photographs are truly cherished. I have recently acquired a photo of my granddad Frank, whom I never met, but I find his picture fascinating. It is displayed on the book shelf, along with all the other photos of family and friends. In the current digital era, where pictures are megapixels rather than paper, I urge you to do two things:
1) Let your friends and loved ones photograph you – you don’t appreciate what the photo will mean to them (you also don’t appreciate how great you look right now);
2) Print your digital pictures; put them in frames or in the photo album and look at them often, it is a pictorial representation of a time in your life.
The last few photos taken of me, I’m smiling and I’m having a great time, because I don’t care what I look like, the photo is meant to be of ‘me’ and all my idiosyncrasies. Where I might have seen imperfection before, I now see uniqueness and I am learning to celebrate how amazing that really is.