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Five year olds squirm in their own skin. They need to move. They are intelligent and aware but distracted, at least mine is. Her heartbeat is run by kinetic energy. It’s not too big of a deal until I need her to stand still, look here, don’t smile, turn to the right… I’m generally a control freak when it comes to photography. On this trip I found myself having less control of the shoots the more we did. I think she was getting sick of it. Honestly, at times, I was a bit too.
We walked for a long time along Herring Cove Beach on Campobello Island in New Brunswick, Canada. It was desolate, subdued, gray and foggy, and all rocks. The waves were rough so when they crashed and receded you could hear the sounds of the rocks rolling along each other, in and out of the sea. A constant tapping that undulates in volume as the waves push them in and out. The beach was littered with commercial fishing debris. Lots and lots of rope. Rope that was once brilliant in color, bleached by the sun and salt. Clover had a field day collecting and playing with the different ropes. It was beautiful to watch, like a ribbon dance. We stopped to shoot some pictures along the way. I wanted her to look out to the ocean, without the rope. But she kept playing with it. So asked again, and again. “Please drop the rope.” I was getting pissed. But then as looked through the camera at Clover tangled up in her rope I had an epiphany. That was the picture. Her being tangled was what I actually needed, what I really wanted. She was perfectly wrapped up. I couldn’t have thought of that, and it’s exactly what that image required. It was a collaboration. She was making the photograph with me as an equal partner. In that moment realized I needed to let go, to embrace the craziness. This was one of many instance to come over the course of the next few days where I became aware of our partnership in action. (Herring Cove Beach image in post below or here.)
The next time that feeling arose was the next day when we stopped of to get some lunch in Hartland. There was a big pond that emptied into a stream by the roadside with a little dam and waterfall. I wanted to shoot some tighter shots of Clover against the cloudy sky and water. It looked so bleak and fake, like a 2D paper backdrop. She was hungry and over it before we even began. It was the last day of the trip, she was ready to go home. She was sick of being my muse. I tried and tried to get her to “stand still and make a normal face” in front of that pond. Instead I got twirling, craning her neck to try to see the waterfall and faces. Lots of faces, just not the one I wanted. I just decided to shoot them all. This was her way of fighting against me. In the end she did what I asked and in the end those picture were the weakest. The ones where she did what she wanted were the best. She pretended to be mad and stare me down. Click, click. It’s a collaboration, always was. I just need to remember that.
