BEING CAMERA READY

(Copyright © 2012 The Big C and Me)

Last night, on our way to a Labor Day celebration dinner with friends, I looked up at the sky and suddenly asked my husband to take a quick detour to the top of a nearby hill. I simply can't pass up a good-looking sunset.

It always pays to be camera ready.

My first camera was a Minolta SLR. Got it as a high school graduation gift from my family, and I loved it. Used it frequently, and for years. Until I dropped it at the Emmy Awards.

Now before you get too excited ...
I wasn't exactly at the Emmy's — I was standing across the street, where the limos drop off the stars. I went with two co-workers (and die-hard TV fans), and was the self-proclaimed DP (designated photographer). I remember the crowd, the energy, the climbing up on the small step ladder I brought to secure a better view — and then the awful sound of my camera hitting the pavement below. Slipped right out of my sweaty little palms. The lens went undamaged; but the camera base went bye-bye.

The next day, I got the film developed and was pleased to see a few images (albeit blurry ones) of Tom Cruise and Arnold Schwarzenegger and Candace Bergen, among others. (I tried to find one of my original pics to post, but they're hiding somewhere in a secret box, envelope or album in my closet or attic or garage. Who the hell knows.)

Suffice to say that after my Emmy debacle, it was awhile before I picked up a camera again.

Then disposable cameras became popular. For some reason (ease, I guess), I started buying and using them. For years. Despite the God-awful quality of the prints! Yet I continued to document the big and small moments of my life with throw-away cameras.

At some point, after I married, my husband bought me a small, digital camera. And it was like I had been handed a key to the heavens. I saw the light again! Once I cradled that digital baby, all my cameraless years melted away. I couldn't stop taking pictures.

We were on vacation a couple of years ago when that beloved point-and-shoot camera started behaving badly, creating zig-zaggy streaks of pink and purple in every shot. It's demise was imminent, and I subsequently went through profound photography withdrawal. So my husband lent me his point-and-shoot Canon. (Also known as the camera I borrowed and never returned.) That's the camera I discovered macro photography with. And I became obsessed with taking extremely close-up photos of nature.

That little Canon still works — though the power button doesn't always, and the lettering is partially worn off from overuse (to wit: The button on the back reads N/FF instead of ON/OFF). Ever the good guy, my husband bought me yet another camera, though not the digital SLR I'd been drooling over for months. It's a slender model that fits nicely into my hiking pocket or my purse, which is good, but when it comes to zooming in on stuff that's far away, it's very bad. So now I have two small cameras but no big one. And I'm dragging my feet because I'm now so used to the lightness of the smaller camera that I wonder if my impulse to shoot will be hindered if I drag a big, bulky camera around.

(Would love to hear your thoughts, suggestions and comments regarding the cameras you shoot with and how you feel about them!)

Given my complications with delayed healing over the past 18 months, my camera skills have come in very handy as I photo-document my weekly (and sometimes daily) journey. After I recover from my surgery on Wednesday, I'm planning to post some tips that will help you document your healing journey too, no matter what it is. Stay tuned!