And no photo I want to use. It's "Water water everywhere, and not a drop to drink ..." Two boxes of reviews, huge box of old brochures, older brochures, broadsides, flyers, and a fat pile of newspaper clippings.
Oh my goodness -- what a mess -- dust, debris, cobwebs. Working on a post, I went on a hunt for a photograph I know I have, because it was used on the cover of "Encore, The Private and Professional Triumph of Emily Frankel" -- the book that was written about me.
You'd think that book would delight me. It doesn't. I helped the author obscure real names, and fudge, with my creative help, some facts that I didn't want publicized.
The fudges bother me. Also the author's take on my vision of dancing -- he didn't understand that I didn't want to dance like a soft, gentle, breeze -- I explained how I wanted to fly, leap, glide like the winged creature in the book my oldest sister read to me --"The SnipSnops And The Woo-Woo Bird," but he kept using the word "zephyr."
Well, the hunt for the original copy of that picture took a couple of hours, and the services of JC, my favorite, superb janitor-handyman, on our 8 foot ladder locating some moderately impressive pictures I'd forgotten I had -- but not the photo I was looking for.
Golly gee -- I thought I knew how to take a great photo. Like a model, I use my best features -- my left leg for high extensions -- my graceful arms, hands, head, great hair. Like an actress, I create and project a mood . I even bring an assistant to the shoot, to check on everything, especially my feet, my turnout.
Yuck! In the pictures we found, I didn't like my smile, my facial expressions, my over-use of wide eyes, and I HATED MY DANCING. Some of the action shots were passable, but the posed stuff (shot on a roll of grey paper, ceiling to floor), on which I tried to "dance" with dancer energy in my body) -- double-yuck!
Okay, I fully understand and forgive myself for the reasons for why I looked boring, fake, often with terrible feet -- feet not pointing enough, not sufficiently turned out. Okay, getting a dozen good pictures out of a hundred or so shots takes hours and hours, even for a ballerina -- but oh dear ... what I saw on my hunt ...
Em wanted to tell the girl in the pictures -- "Pursue another profession, dear."
Okay, there are a few good pictures. I've used a few of them in my blog. But this dialogue is a warning to you : Those pals of yours with their cell phone and digital cameras, who say "You look great, just freeze for a second!"-- BEWARE -- at least tug on your outfit, smooth your hair, lick your lips.
The click freezes the view of that second, but why "You look great" is composed of many seconds -- the seconds before the click -- the picture is more often than not, not great, not "fantastic, magnificent, excellent, terrific, cool , good" but -- awful.
"Em --" (I'm talking out loud to myself), "Ballerina, turnout, feet -- it's fogging your view of what you did as a dancer. Forget about the pictures. DANCE is what you did well -- "Woo-Woo bird" dancing, and you still manage to do fairly well.
The photo you used for that post (Oct 7th), is perfect -- it tells tell the story of what you did and do. And now you can convey in words, how this utilizes you, all of you, past and present, and all your knowledge and experience, and gives you pleasure.
But the white box overhead on my right -- that shelf -- the one that's 15 feet overhead ... When JC gets home, if he carries in the 10 foot ladder ... just a quick look -- it's a really beautiful photo.