The Photograph I will Never Take

She stands naked in front of and old oak framed mirror, but her gaze is elsewhere. Her left arm is folded over her chest, clutching a sheer flowing piece of cloth to her busom. The cloth spills out over her luscious form, running down over her stomach and beyond her thighs. Her other hand brushes her hair away from her face, exposing her inner self as well as her immense beauty. What is that expression she wears, is it hurt, concern, or simply lost in thought? I turn my camera towards her image, focusing carefully to insure that I capture the slightly blurred outline of the curve of her hip while retaining the sharp clear image of her vulnerability in the mirror. I can feel the sweat forming on my palms as my finger presses down upon the shutter. The opportunity to photograph such beauty is a rare opportunity, one that may only present itself a few times in a lifetime. I also know that any image, any fragment in time captured by my lens will have to compete with the living, breathing beauty that is her. How could something I merely borrow match the beauty that she owns? I take a deep breath, steady myself, and trigger the shutter…

One of the sad facts of photography is that not every picture turns out. No matter how much planning goes into the shot, or how much you want to capture with your lens what you see what your eye, things can go wrong. Sometimes it is your exposure, other times it is your focus. Quite often though it’s a question of a missed opportunity. That one shining moment, where the planets aligned to give you that perfect shot, passes you by without a click.. You try to take it in stride, and know that there will be other moments down the road, but you cannot help but wonder, had everything worked out the way you wanted, what could have been.

Take a picture of a shooting star after it has burned out and you are left with nothing.