Paco is my little point-and-shoot camera. I get really tired of saying (and typing) point-and-shoot so I gave it name. Paco. Paco the PowerShot.
Anywho, Paco got a lot of game time while we were island jumping earlier this month. It’s a handy little camera, fit in almost all my bags, and though I’d be sad if Paco drowned in the Caribbean Sea, tis better for it to bite the dust than Mac. (They’re cameras. Not children. I’m allowed to play favorites.) With Paco came the thing I try not do but always find myself doing: flipping the camera around.
That’s right. Self-portraits at arms-length. I don’t like these shots for two reasons. One being that they usually look horrible and never framed in a way that’s flattering. The second reason is I don’t really like having my picture taken.
Let me rephrase: I don’t mind having my picture taken. I just usually don’t like how the picture turns out. It’s not the shooter or the camera. It’s me. I find things I don’t like. How my left eye squints up. How my grown up face still has breakouts. My little teeth. My inability to actually make my hair look nice. And I have no idea why I make half the faces I make but I make some seriously weird faces when being photographed. I could go on for hours with the nitpicking – gah.
But by golly, I wanted pictures of myself on vacation. And if it meant taking them myself, then it was game on. Paco, thank you for making this easier. It’s appreciated.
On day one I got the idea of taking a self-portrait every morning on our balcony.
Fantastic view off the balcony: the parking lot off the pier in St. Thomas. Beautiful, no? Don’t even get me started on the picture. I really didn’t care how it turned out. Because I was going to get off this boat and get on another one.
Day two’s view: another ship on the pier in Antigua. Beautiful, no? So now we know two things for sure: my hair hates me and I hold the camera sideways when my arms are completely stretched out. FANtastic.
Day three I gave up. The hubs took one for me. There was no flippage of the Paco so it doesn’t qualify as an self-portrait. Day four I had nada. Actually, I might have forgotten about it altogether. Oh well.
And there are of course flipped Paco shots of me and my pals. Like Mrs. Rev. We went to the movies this night. I was that person with the flash in a dark room. (Don’t worry. I did it before the movie actually started.)
And Martha. At the beach. In our shades. If someone told me that if I took off all my clothes and ran to the Second Street bridge stark nekkid would transport me back to this beach instantaneously, it’d be on like donky kong. I might get a few screams but I think it’d be worth it.