I know that Neil Armstrong was the first man to walk on the moon. But I had no idea who took the first photograph. That was appalling. I mean, it was because of photographs that television and films came into being. It was because of photography that we were able to watch those first moon steps. Some digging and unearthing of information was definitely called for!

I discovered that Louis Daguerre developed the first publicly announced photographic process. This required only minutes of exposure in the camera and produced clear, finely detailed results. It was commercially introduced in 1839, a date generally accepted as the birth year of practical photography. The coining of the word “photography” is based on the Greek words: φῶς phōtós meaning “light”, and γραφή (graphê meaning “drawing or writing”. Together they mean “drawing with light”.
I love that expression. It seems to dance on my tongue – drawing with light!

I had my fall which resulted in the end of my acting career. My mind began working on other things that I could do. I was lying in bed one night when the thought hit me – photography! My friend, Jil Hurst, had given me this beautiful Nikon camera and the photographs I had taken with it were stunning. Yes, I thought, yes, yes, yes!!! I only had forty percent eyesight but once I had the object in the lens, my days of superb photography would return.

It was not to be. I have the added problem of having no depth perception. This means that my vision is basically up the pole! Not a defect one would wish on a photographer. The next David Bailey was a part clearly not meant for me.

However, my love of photographs has not diminished. Karl Lagerfeld says: “What I like about photographs is that they capture a moment that’s gone forever, impossible to reproduce.”
Exactly!
By nature, I am a hoarder. I don’t like to let go of things, to let go of life. Which is why photographs are so incredibly valuable to me. Life which inevitably slips away, can be recorded. One is able to capture a moment through a camera lens. One can look at a photograph and parts of one’s life that were buried come tumbling back into focus once more.

On the wall next to my bed, is a huge polystyrene board which is plastered with photographs. As I lie in bed, my eye constantly roam that board, touching on well loved faces.

Jans and I lounging against the counter of the Kingswood Golf Estate before my first golf lesson. Golf was a challenge that led me on an adventure. Once the woods had been dark, impenetrable to light. Now I see that the darkness was merely covering other treasures I didn’t know were hidden. Each lesson has provided me with new prizes to aim for. Prizes that with practice, are within my grasp.
Dad carrying a beautiful bouquet of flowers through to my dressing room. I love the smile on his face.
My grandmother, ‘Granabelle’ I called her, as a young woman.
Maralin Vanrenen, the director of my two one woman shows and her partner, Mignon. We have been discussing the possibility of a third show. I must put ideas together towards the planning of a script.
My brother, Patch and Dad in their ‘rugby’ outfits. Dad, being an ex-Shark was obviously in his black and white. Patch being a Lions supporter was in red and white! I remember their comradely relationship and my heart warms.
Perdita, my wire haired dachshund, peeping out from under the covers of my bed!
Gaby Lomberg and Kate Normington in a show that they performed at Club 58. Gabs died of a brain tumour nine years ago.
I miss her.
Professor Pieter Scholtz and I. He was head of our drama department when I was a student. I think back to all of those vibrant musicals he directed and my heart smiles.
Janet Suzman receiving her Knighthood. This was when Jan became Sir Suz to me! I think back on our past. I have known her since she directed us in Othello in 1987 Apartheid South Africa. When I was recently in London, Jan was a member of a debating panel discussing Othello. I found it thoroughly engrossing. What a stimulating event that was! I saw some of the film we made during that time and was blown away by John Kani playing Othello and Joanna Weinberg playing Desdemona. Glory, our film of Othello was outstanding!

These are just some of the photographs on my board. By having them at my side, in a way I am keeping these people alive. People stay alive by being remembered. Dad has been dead for the past five years. Yet every night he smiles down at me from my dressing room door. He holds Mums in that wonderful, laughing embrace. There is Gaby’s mischievous grin from under a black trilby. They are alive to me because…I remember! The other pictures of laughter, riding bikes, learning to play golf, Perdita peeping out from under my bedclothes – they are of individuals that play a part in this thing called life.

I give thanks for Louis Daguerre’s incredible invention. I lie in bed at night and look at my drawings with light.

And remember.

The post Drawing with Light! appeared first on 'ear 'ear! by Gaynor Young.

Nothing is ever really lost to us as long as we remember it.”

Photographs!
Captured moments that would otherwise be gone forever.
I have a polystyrene pin board in my bedroom that is strewn with photographs. They bring into the present, times that have passed: my Dad holding a bunch of flowers in my dressing room, my siblings forty years ago, my aunt’s face creased into delighted laughter, my dog and I running along a beach, Mums laughing up at Dad……So many memories that lie in wait for me; every time my eye touches that board.

These photographs keep the people and places alive and ‘just around the corner’. They kindle memories that would otherwise be discarded and forgotten. That is why they are invaluable to me. I remember Mums saying to Dad: “If this house ever catches fire, apart from you and the children, the things I would rescue first would be my photo albums. Nothing can replace the memories they contain.”
“But you have shelves of photo albums. It would take you ages!”
“I would hurl them out the window,” my mother stoutly declared. “My memories would not go up in smoke!”
I couldn’t agree more.

Recently I received this letter from a woman named Carla.

I came across your blog last week and was preoccupied with your story, with you, with your magnificent bravery and strength.
My company, PrintWild, would like to send you a gift but I am not sure which of our products would be meaningful to you.

Do you enjoy looking through photographic prints? If so, then perhaps our PhotoBox would be a pleasant object to have on your shelf or table. If you would like to create your own PhotoBox, then please get in touch and I’ll send you a voucher code for payment. This includes door to door delivery within South Africa.

A PhotoBox features a high gloss acrylic image lid that is magnetised to the timber base. The unit holds up to 50 PhotoBox prints, they’re around A5 in size.

I went to their website and found a video all about a PhotoBox. I watched it with growing interest. What an amazing thing it was. A PhotoBox looked a complete treasure. And PrintWild had offered me one for free. What an incredibly magnanimous gesture!

Carla emailed me the voucher code and I then sat at my computer going through my photographs. I had reams of them. And yet I never saw them. They had sat in the computer as the months turned into years – forgotten. PhotoBox will deal with fifty of them, I thought. In fact, maybe I could have quite a few PhotoBoxes which I could store on my bookcase in the lounge. They could be displayed in turn on top of my washstand. I simply uploaded the photographs I wanted via the PrintWild website and finished my order by entering the voucher details.

Ten days later, I was handed a thickly wrapped parcel at my gate. It had arrived! Once inside, scissors in hand, I attacked the parcel – carefully! Finally, I was down to bubble wrap. I delicately unwrapped the final pieces and stared at my PhotoBox in wonder and delight. Perdita, my wire-haired dachshund, grinned at me from the acrylic top. Gently I lifted it to see a mound of beautiful glossy photographs inside. They were crisp and startling in both their colour and veracity.

I began looking through them. Memories gently sifted through my hands. Recollections of people and places, laughter and tears, all danced through my fingers and into my heart.

How could I possibly express what I felt on looking at that magical box of pictures. And this gesture was made by someone that I had never met. Carla was doing what we all should do. Giving merely because she was able to.

Carla and her company gave me a magical box. A box which holds something I prize so dearly: memories. Having lost so many memories due to my fall, memory is now a vital thing to me. Me and my friends will open this magical box and by doing so my memories will once more be rejuvenated. Time and time again.

A magical box brimming over with marvellous memories!

The post A Magical Box!!! appeared first on 'ear 'ear! by Gaynor Young.