Miranda July, or The Failed Portrait

nobody@flickr.com (Lou O' Bedlam) — Thu, 17 May 2007 04:17:53 -0700

This is not what I wanted. And as i watched it develop, watched it come out not as I'd intended, I thought back to where the mistake was.

The long line, the bad lighting, the large crowd, the awkward introduction.

I compared this time to the last, when I'd photographed another author, how that shot had come out better than I could've expected.

She's too famous.
Or,
She was too tired.
Or,
Too many people had already taken her picture.

Maybe if I'd said more, mentioned that my girlfriend had been at her last LA performance, had been spooned by her during the audience participation part. Maybe that would've loosened things up.

Or maybe if I hadn't used the flash, maybe that would've been more interesting.

Or maybe if I'd rushed out of the Q & A earlier, been at the front of the line, maybe things would've been livelier.

I practice these things in my head, practice for an event that has already passed. Maybe in case I get a chance to travel back to that moment. Or maybe for the next time she's in town, the next book, or maybe the next movie.

Or for when I bump into her on the street, or in the market, because we live in the same neighborhood, and it is quite possible, I've bumped into other people. I always carry my camera around, just in case, this is but one more reason among many.

And I look at the shot and examine my mistakes, her smile that is just too still, eyes dulled by artificial light, I'm too far away, the background is far too grey.

But she signed my book with a squiggle and a heart. That is adorable, and well worth the price of admission.

Of course, there was no price, it was free.

And I like the flower in her hair, that's a nice touch.

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Miranda July, or The Failed Portrait