Through different eyes
I was talking to a wonderful friend on the other side of the world earlier, and the question of perception came up – how we see the world, and perhaps how the world sees us. It's interesting because it's often been remarked that I am – how best to put this? – different than most people in this regard.
I don't really worry about how I am seen. I can understand that this might be disregarded by others as an off-hand comment by somebody that doesn't look too bad; following the idea that you can only live easily in your own skin if you know you “fit in”. And yet I don't really fit in. For the greater part of my life I have been an outsider. A free spirit. When I worked in London the head of the department openly described me as “a little bit alternative”. In the city it became more pronounced; where so many wear the same clothes, and aspire to the same things.
The way I see the world is illustrated by a photo I took recently. It was taken at a family wedding, and gives a good indication of “me”. Whereas most people were taking photos of grinning relatives in stilted poses, I quietly took hundreds of photos of things happening. The above marked the moments before the ceremony began. The interest for me is in the story of the image; what was happening. A fixed toothy grin tells nothing. The interesting thing is people – us – each other – our lives. We recognise drama, and we are singularly good at reading expressions – even in still images.
What am I saying here?
Perhaps that I don't see the toothy grins, and the new haircuts. I don't see the scuffed shoes and the trousers that don't quite fit. I tend to see the rest of the story; the stress, the excitement, the larger than life characters and the really interesting people – the quiet ones.