Photography has never been my strong suit, and especially the current passion for selfies. I find my talent for this art form is sadly lacking.
Recently, I attempt this new experience when requested to provide a headshot from my blog’s webmaster. I had sent her a shadowy shot taken by a grandson that didn’t make the grade.
So, I decide to attempt a selfie. Since I’m alone, there aren’t any other options. Okay, so I figure out how to make the focus switch back to me. Good. Now, to have just the right smile and make sure my triple chin isn’t too obvious. Lets see, I think my right side is preferable. Here goes:
Oh, its like a mirror. When I say right, it goes left. Oh boy, my dyslexia is gonna have a hay day. Now to turn the opposite way.
Boy oh boy, more problems. I didn’t notice that I was aiming my camera toward the ceiling and now it looks like the ceiling light is coming out of my head.
Alright, I need just the right smile. Oh no, too goofy, too serious. Maybe a half smile—ick! It makes me look like I’m tipsy. A small smile might be best.
Egads! I just realized that my eyebrows aren’t even. As I concentrate on arranging my face just right, it makes my eyebrow rise. Weird!
If only I could keep my eyes open without appearing shocked. The light automatically causes my eyes to close.
Oh dear, my hair. When I turn the right way, I have an unruly curl that pops out and appears to be a horn growing out of my head.
By the time I decide to wait for a better hair and eyebrow day, my count of attempted selfies is up to eighteen.
Perfection for self-directed pictures, I decide, is unattainable. It might be easier if the subjects of said pictures were perfect. Not gonna happen.