Most of the time I try to take artistic pictures. Well, about as artistic as I can with no Photoshop software, a simple point and shoot camera with limited zoom, the balancing skills of a jelly bean and the steadiness of a Jell-O Jiggler. Sometimes my pictures turn out pretty good and sometimes they don’t, but I don’t let it bother me. I’ll take my many bad pictures for the one good picture I stumble on here and there.
I love close ups of the faces of my children. I love black and white photos but I rarely take them in black and white. I’m not really picky, really. I love all the photos I take that don’t turn out shaky and fuzzy.
For about the last 6 and half years, there has been one ginormous exception to my good photo rule. The one that makes me throw all attempts at artistry out the window and just point and shoot to capture the moment. My exception?
The blackmail photo.
There are certain photos in my collection that I have taken for the sheer blackmail factor. While I don’t truly intend to sit down with either of my son's first girlfriends and pull the blackmail album out, I do intend someday to pour over the memories with my way in the future daughter in laws and grandchildren. But the boys don’t need to know that. I might just have a little fun with a slight threat here and there.
Maybe I am subliminally evil.
I love close ups of the faces of my children. I love black and white photos but I rarely take them in black and white. I’m not really picky, really. I love all the photos I take that don’t turn out shaky and fuzzy.
For about the last 6 and half years, there has been one ginormous exception to my good photo rule. The one that makes me throw all attempts at artistry out the window and just point and shoot to capture the moment. My exception?
The blackmail photo.
There are certain photos in my collection that I have taken for the sheer blackmail factor. While I don’t truly intend to sit down with either of my son's first girlfriends and pull the blackmail album out, I do intend someday to pour over the memories with my way in the future daughter in laws and grandchildren. But the boys don’t need to know that. I might just have a little fun with a slight threat here and there.
Maybe I am subliminally evil.
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