What I love most about photography is the ability to capture life, tiny pieces of reality. My favourite shots are more often those where people are unaware they are being photographed. I always feel a little guilty, like I am stealing something that is uniquely theirs and they would maybe not want to share. When I look at these shots later it takes my breath away how the person’s personality shines through so brightly and gives life to the picture. I never get tired of looking at those rare gems, absorbing all the tiny details I almost never noticed when I took the picture in the first place.
I came across this picture of my dad today. I took it a couple of weeks back, almost by accident, when he bought a new camera and got bored of watching me play with it. It’s not a spectacular shot at all, but it’s just so very much him… at the desk, with rows of shoes behind him (his profession), cigarette in hand, completely absorbed in a phonecall from his girlfriend.
stolen moments
Leave a reply
little home by hand 