I’m from a family which has a passion for photography. Henny, my dad, has a nice camera. (He always had the latest stuff). So when another magazine asked if I didn’t have a better quality picture of myself, I had the stupid idea of asking him to take some.
It brought back memories of childhood “traumas”. I was eight years old and we were at my grandparents’ house. In the hall, at the top of the stairs, as there was the perfect background for a picture. I think I had two ponytails on the sides of my head and my eyes were working as they should. I blinked with every lightning flash.
My mum showed me a different side of photography. She did it the old-fashioned way for a long time. I can’t remember actually posing for her, but that darkroom made a big impression. We had it in the attic and I was told to not touch those magical fluids, as they were poison. We’d develop my own pictures as well and it was always amazing to see how putting a piece of paper in four baths can suddenly make it show your face.
I still love taking pictures myself. Probably because I see so many nice things around me. I enjoy life and from time to time I want to try and capture that. And I think I have a talent for spotting a good frame, though I’m not too familiar with the technical side of things and I can’t be bothered about which brand camera is best for instance.
Anyway, back to this last shoot. After taking lots of me, my uncle and aunt came in with my cousins Valesca and Randy. And with my aunt’s sister and my dad’s twin brother visiting as well, it became a nice sort of family reunion in the end. Valesca is the apple of the eye of the whole family. She’s a year old now and able to walk around if there’s a table or something to hold on to. She’s very sweet and has a will of her own. And she reminds us of my grandmother. I crawled on the floor with her until she wanted me to pick her up and discover the rest of the house. She pointed her little finger to something, saying ‘dat’ to make clear what she wanted to see and we opened and shut doors together, making her have this irresistible smile on her face.
Randy (Valesca’s big brother) and I are from the same generation as well, even though there’s a twelve year age difference. We always did fun stuff together too and ever since he turned twelve or so we started measuring our shoulders to see if he was already bigger than I was. The last couple of times he nearly was and guess what: today the difference was almost a whole centimeter to his advantage!
And here’s some proof of all of that. Picture credit: H. v. Arkel.
One Comment
A great story and great to see little Valesca and big Randy. And you too of course. Thanks for sharing them with us
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