Photography gods
I spent most of our short new year holiday down south this year, as we only had six days off; a trip abroad wouldn’t have worked, especially as airfare prices tend to skyrocket. I’ve also made a couple of purchases lately that make me a bit hesitant to spend any more. One of these was an iPad Air, purportedly to use for writing but really to read comics on, and the other was the first camera I’ve purchased in many years.
Chenbl and I took the bullet train to Kaohsiung at noon on Friday, the second day of the holiday. We checked into the same hotel I stayed at the last time I was there. The weather was fine, and it was good to be in a different city -a port city no less!- for a time. We met some old friends, had tea and cake by the Love River, rode some of the rickety one-speed rental bicycles, took the ferry to Qijin, and had some seafood. We took side trips to Gangshan and Qishan. We spent Monday, the last day of our trip, in Tainan, which is where Chenbl’s family in from. We even bumped into one of his relatives at a local temple.
Tainan is famous for the density of its temples. There are temples everywhere, big and small. When I visit such places, I usually have little conversations in my head with the local gods, and I continued this practice at one small temple on a side street. One of the door gods, the dark-skinned brother that is usually on the left side as you face the temple, was looking sternly at my camera, rapt with attention. I walked over to the main alter and asked the main gods what was up.
“Just what do you think you’re doing with that camera?” they asked.
“I take photographs, mostly of people,” I said.
“Why?”
“Uh, I like the compositions?”
“You can see good compositions any time you like. Why do you take photos?”
“Because I like to.”
“That’s a cop-out. You like to? Ha! Forget about that. What gets you? Tell us!”
I thought for a while. They weren’t going anywhere anyway. Eventually I said, “What gets me…is showing people how they are. Everything moves so quickly, these moments of clarity, where everything just fits, come and go and they’re gone. Not just the moments, but the people as well.”
“What about them?”
“Their environments, their characters…”
“So?”
“So I want to show them.”
“Why?”
“Because they don’t know.”
“Know what?”
“That they’re beautiful! And interesting! And worth paying attention to!”
“Ah! But how do you know what they know and what they don’t know? Who are you to say?”
“That’s true. Who am I to say? They’re the ones to say. They’re the ones who do say. But I’d like to think I’m giving them another option, another angle, another choice. Maybe even one they never considered possible.” Their painted expressions softened, or at least it seemed that they did, as I waited for their answer.
“Alright, then. Just remember that it’s not about you, or your ego. It’s about everyone but you. Remember that, and only then will your work show who you really are.”
Chenbl had just finished talking with one of the temple employees, and came over to where I stood in front of the altar. Always concerned about my finances, he said, “Ask them about your job.” I did.
“Your job? Weren’t we just talking about your job?”
“No, my day job. My office job.”
Silence. They had nothing to say. I walked back to the door god, who was still staring at my camera. But this time, it was no longer a warning, it was a beacon. At least in my mind.
