Take Five

This one’s a tribute to my dad, who inspired me with a love of photography and of jazz. Why, we even had a darkroom in the home my parents had built, although that was soon abandoned as our numbers grew to five under 7, when it became a storage room for sports equipment and cleaning aids. My mother’s sewing room was similarly abandoned when it became clear we three oldest girls could not share amicably, and the youngest two needed space as well.

Anyway, my dad did take very nice photos (see poorly scanned extra of me aged 4.5, at the height of my Dave Brubeck craze). I’d been inspired by some photographic reading to emulate Alvin Langdon Coburn’s vortographs, but in the absence of requisite equipment, I thought I’d have a play with the infinity mirrors of our walk-in-robe and my husband’s favourite (but nonfunctional) mid century clock. Overlaid with my father’s portrait of me run through the Hipstamatic mill.

It’s also an allusion to my father’s interest in Salvador Dali. His interest in photography is not completely diminished. After a lifetime of lusting after the window displays of camera shops he aches for a lumix that will compensate for his hand tremor. 

I don’t know why I didn’t get him one for his birthday!

Thanks JohnEdward for hosting today.