Monday, November 20, 2006

The camera never lies -- bastard thing

While in London, I've had time to think about new professions. You know, in case my dream of becoming a highly paid kitten and puppy petter falls through. So far, I've come up with two alternative career options:

1. Eco-surveyor. Help middle class people (like us) who are buying a new house (like us) to figure out how much work is involved in making it eco-friendly (as we will want to). The newspapers are obsessed at the moment with climate change, so I reckon eco taxes can't be far behind, making this scheme a winner.

2. Teaching people how to take good photographs. Now, I don't mean taking decent holiday snaps; I mean appearing in photos without looking like a loon. This is something close to my heart, as we have no decent photos of me. The camera doesn't love me, but actively despises me. It can scent the fear emanating from me whenever someone wants to take a picture, capturing the rictus grin, the attempts to relax, the terrified gaze. I gurn instinctively. What I want is to spend an hour with a professional photographer, but not in the manner of those makeover "glamour" sessions advertised in the back of women's magazines, who smear inch-thick Vaseline onto the lens and drape you in some scratchy red nylon underwear. No, I want someone who will tell me how to stand, how to relax, what my good side is (there must be one, right?), where to look, and take some pictures that convince me that I'm not a freak. And I believe that I'm not the only person who feels like this -- my mother is the same. There's got to be a market for this service.

Any other suggestions on what I could do with my life?

2 comments:

Beth said...

Gurn. What a woefully under-utilized word. Well done, Dumpling. I've missed that word.

But I miss you. When are you coming back to this side of the pond anyway?

Norfolk Dumpling said...

We're flying back tomorrow evening -- fancy a coffee on Sunday?