In Continuum.

Camera Whore

30th of November,that was the date my father told my sister,for her to buy the camera before then or he wasnt going to subsidise in the price.So my sister grumbled and snorted,threw a hissy-fit and then gave up finally and bought herself a new digital camera.It's a Panasonic Lumix,6 Megapixels and really good.It even has funny options like "Food" or "Dance",with the little black stickman actually dancing in the icon.It's awesome really,i must say.But as happy as i am for her,i have something celebrate about as well.The old Canon Ixus she used,with 5 Megapixels is not mine,inherited from her and still working as well as ever.It's rose red,but it's not like i care a lot.I find it rather cool,really.

But anyway,i'd like it very much if my TSO wouldnt call me a camera whore.But oh well,i guess in a way i am.In definition,that is.I can actually deny the fact that i am perhaps in a way,a camera whore.What does a "Camera Whore" mean anyway?The prostitute of a camera?It doesnt make sense at all.Whoever came up with that term mustve been high,or very high.

I fell in love with photography when i was in India.With the camera entrusted into my possession for the first time then,i took full advantage of it by taking anything and everything in sight.No thanks to my photography skills though,because almost anything and everything in India was,in it's own unique and strange way,beautiful.Even the dirty indian children of the deserts,the way the shrubs dotted the landscape,the way the clouds were like cotten candies,stretched out and sparse...All of those,they were beautiful in an unspeakable way,and i remember telling my friends that it didnt matter if you had my camera and blind at the same time.Just hold up your camera,make sure your hand is stable,then take a picture.Because anything is going to be beautiful,and i bet my life on that.Incredible India,indeed.

But anyway,India was the place i fell in love with photography.I remember being really exposed to it for the first time from Sarah.She is an avid fan of photography,and would bring her camera almost anywhere.I remember the windchimes she took at the porch of her house,the flowers in the garden and of course the famous cracked watermelon.But i never took too much attention in that,not even when my sister's in a visual designing course in Nafa did anybody influence me on photography as much as India did.

I came back to Singapore and almost immediately craved for a camera.But because my sister needed it for her school work,and the quality of the camera in my old/stolen phone was rather bad,my desperations were not answered and i remember every single time i see something being worthy of being in a frame of a picture,i would storm my feet and watch as it disappears with the blink of the eyes because i never had a decent camera with me.I hated that immensely,and the moment i got my hands on my Nokia N72,i started taking pictures of the coffee table at Coffee Beans,then the cup of tea left over by the previous customer.Yeah,i AM a camera whore it sounds.But dont you dare think you can call me that.

So right now i have the brand new old camera on my table.It belongs to me now,and i still have a question in my head: What am i going to do with you? I have no idea now,to be honest.But i'm sure im going to figure it out,like how i did with my six-string.Until then,i remain an avid fan of photography and will continue to take pictures.Of course,without me in it.I've never been photogenic,and hate to see myself in pictures.I look twisted most of the time,or just plain monstrous.And it's not even funny in any way,but rather disturbing.