Simply...Human

Simply Human

Messages sent, trains every 5 minutes, the beeping of the checkouts and the conversation between the cashier and the customer. Children crying, adults laughing, cars honking and street lights, office lights, all lights flickering. When you take a moment to look around, you notice how much is happening all within the space of a single second. The world is forever moving, never resting. I don’t mean the spinning of the globe on its axis but instead the constant cacophony of life bustling all around, engulfing every little space. Even at night, when we think that everyone is asleep just because we find ourselves laying in bed, life continues. The breeze rustling the leaves, mothers up and running to their newborns, young people in nightclubs, the taxi drivers on the street, the stray cats hiding in the trash cans. Perhaps there's even a young couple who missed the last bus, their only option now being to walk in the rain together to their destination; secretly neither of them mind however, they like one another's company, and who knows, maybe this series of events will turn out to be a shared pivotal moment in their lifetimes.

I’ve come to realise, in order to find comfort within, you need to find the comfort around, hidden in the creases of people and their experiences. In the smile lines beside their eyes, the song behind their words, those stances and expressions that slip when they forget that no one is looking. Viewing the world this way allowed me to climb out of a hole I fell into many years ago.  A single second, the time it takes for the camera to flash, the shutter to capture, a single second, and a camera is all it takes to make a swift moment last forever.

In today's world, it's very easy to believe anything you aspire is possible.

"Move to the city!”, they said, "You have so much talent, the city is where you’ll get noticed!”, they lied. 

So easily can thoughts and ideas be planted into our minds, fooling us into thinking we can achieve anything. I now believe you can, you can accomplish what you desire, but you need to remember, all dreams achieved were done so by those who worked hard to get them, they were no fool and realised that dream aside, there was work to do to get it.

I, however, was a fool.

Four years ago, I moved to the city, chasing my fantasies, following the advice but unknowingly wandering into my own self-destruction. I arrived with no plans, and no connections. In hindsight, I don’t know how I didn’t realise sooner how things would go as in fact they went exactly how one would expect, losing almost everything. I lost my home, my few friends, my loves, my joy, and I almost completely lost my mind. You learn too quickly how dangerous the streets can be, how easily it is to find yourself with a needle in one hand, or some discernible white powder in the other. 

I moved here as a man with his camera strapped around his neck, dreams in his head, and to be truthfully honest, I remain the same today. The neck strap is a little old now, threads untying, but the camera itself remains exactly how it was the day I arrived. 

As my life tumbled into madness, I hated my camera, I hated my idiocy. I associated my failure with this inanimate object;

 I wasn’t good enough,

 I had no unique vision,

 if only I had a better camera,

could take better pictures, 

maybe then they would want me, maybe then my life wouldn’t be this way.

Years passed and so did my animosity. I realised that the camera was not to blame. How could I be so petty to something lifeless? I knew I couldn’t continue further down the road I was heading and so, somehow, I decided to turn around and see what I could find in the other direction. It wasn’t easy, you tend to hit a cliff pretty early on in this journey, but then it's up to you whether or not you want to turn back or dig your nails deep into the rocky surface and pull with all your might, body aching, barely dragging yourself out over the edge and into a better life, but somehow,

I did.

And so, I began taking pictures again, this time with a different vision. I even managed to save up and buy myself a small portable printer that could connect to my camera and print photos like in the good old days of polaroids.

To some it might appear that I still don’t have much but to me I do, as now, I have meaning again. As long as you have meaning, you have the foundation of everything you can ever desire. 

It was getting late, the neon clock above the DJ beaming 2a.m, in another thirty minutes the bartenders will exhaustingly announce final drinks and shortly after everyone will be ushered out. 

Dancers paid no heed to the clock and continued to blur into one another, draining the final drops of freedom they’ve been granted by the music, and their drinks.

Minutes like these are when people find themselves lost. Lost in the music, absorbed in the sound, the vibrations, the lack of worry about tomorrow, the dancers hands waved up high, their heads tilted back and eyes closed, simply living, simply human, enjoying this life.

My camera flashed at regular intervals, capturing plenty of different guests dancing, ordering drinks or attempting to speak with each other over the tremendous noise. Perhaps I could enquire with the nightclub owner or manager about sending them the photos for social media. I have done so for other places before and it has always been a positive outcome. The club gets photos to advertise, I get a few pennies in my pocket and guests can find the images of the great time they were having.

Lifting my camera, it flashed again in one direction, capturing a new picture and I began turning to capture another scratch of dancers when a tap on my shoulder forced me back.

“Hey, bro, you taking picture of ma girl?”, an obviously drunk boy shouted over the beat. His shoulders were squared back, his body language emphasising the aggression heard in his voice and the expression on his face. He was flushed red, probably from the drink and the heat but almost like a cartoon, you could say it was from the fury that he was expelling through furrowed eyebrows and gritted teeth.

“Um no, well sort of yes, I’m just taking pictures of everyone for the club”, I lifted my camera in a helpless gesture.

“That's not what I saw mate. I saw that wee thing there”, he poked my camera lens, “aimed right at ma girl, are you like a perv or somethin?”. I hadn’t seen them approach as I was straining to listen over the music, but now a short girl stood by the lad's side and a few other boys waited behind, all staring at me.

Utter shock flooded my veins. How do you respond to such a thing?

“What? Absolutely not, I was just taking photos, I didn’t mean anything by it, especially not in any way you’re implying”, words were failing me.

“Well you see, I don’t like people taking pictures of ma girl, especially when she’s wearing something like this. I mean she looks stunning, but not for your eyes”, wrapping his arm around her waist he pulled her in and gestured to her top and shoulders, my eyes stupidly following for a brief moment before I realised. She was wearing what someone would say is closer to an undergarment than an actual top. It was light fabric and was held up by very thin straps, I don’t know how you wouldn’t worry they would snap.

“That wasn’t an invitation to look, you absolute perv”.

In a second, the world spun and I was looking out into the night, stars flying about vision. My face hit the damp floor, the smell of spilled alcohol filling my lungs. Finally my consciousness completely returned, and I took in my view, hundreds of feet scuttling away and somehow despite the neverending pounding of the music, I could hear commotion above. 

Strong hands gripped under my arms and pulled me onto my feet. At first touch, the world shook.

“Are you alright mate?”, hands patted my shoulder and a short nod was all I could offer as an answer before the ache in my jaw set in and my head thumped with something a little more than just the music.

“Very well”, the bouncer nodded, checking me up and down one last time, “Alright mate, let's get going”. The man in black ushered to the boy.

“What, me?”, he exclaimed in unexpected shock, “I did nothin wrong, he’s the one snapping pictures of folk to keep for himself”.

“Yeah, yeah, come on, keep moving”. The bouncer pushed on the boy's chest and signalled to his surrounding company to start moving also and so they all bitterly did so.

I watched as they walked, one hand rubbing the portion of my face where the fist had made contact. The boy who acted turned his head as he walked for one final punch and mouthed a word to me, eyes locked.

 “Asshole”.

Shortly after the episode, the rest of the crowd were being pushed out the doors. I let my body be consumed within the hoard and kept my head low. Last thing I wanted was to bump into that group again. Stepping out into the fresh air, finally clearing my airways of stale cider and vodka , I scanned the horizon. The coast was clear and so I headed back, back to my little makeshift home.

The ache in my jaw meant sleep did not come easily and the night was long. Hopefully my face wouldn’t be marked and bruised, as I was hoping to return to the club and see if they would be interested in the photos. There was still a possibility despite the events that did occur. A bruised appearance however wouldn’t give me the best chance.

Getting up and ready, I attempted to make myself up the best I could, I grabbed my best and cleanest clothes and my camera, but I would have to wait and see about my face. I don’t own a mirror so I’d just ensure to pass the park foundation en route and there I would be able to give myself a quick glance. If the weather is good enough, you can see your reflection clearly within the waters and today's blue sky and bright sun beckoned that it would be.

The walk through the central park is quite pleasant. It's the time of year where buds are gradually opening on the trees and the light hits everything a little differently, bringing out the best of the colours that decorate the fields. The greens, the browns, the speckles of whites, pinks and purples of flowers, it was all quite lovely. Maybe today I could focus on landscapes, a welcome change after last night. Capturing the changing light in nature is just as beautiful.

I snapped a few shots of flower beds and small meadows and continued my walk.

The silhouette of a foundation gradually creeped its way into my field of vision. It was a beautiful piece, stone swans, expertly carved, attempted to fly out from the centre piece, the water spewing from their beaks. At certain hours of the day, the foundation would carry out a splendid display, extra sprouts of water would shout out the top at different intervals along with the regular ones.

But today it wasn’t the foundation that caught my eye, but instead a young couple standing in front admiring the stonework. The young man rooted through his pocket momentarily before taking out his hand and flipped a coin into the water. The pair whispered amongst themselves.

Smiles on their faces, his hand in her hair, their eyes focused solely on each other, I lined up my camera. The couple sat in the centre of my frame, trees framed the edges of the shot, and as quickly as my camera flashed, the foundation behind the duo sprang to life, showing off its fabulous act.

As they turned to watch the spectacle, I carefully watched as my photo printed. 

I had captured the moment, the foundation spraying magnificently behind, their faces alight with wonderment of each other. You would look at it and think that this photo was planned and carefully set up waiting for the moment the water shot out. Comfort swept over me as looking at this image, I felt pride in my ability, confidence in my vision. Something I realised I needed after my disaster from yesterday.

Nervously, I headed up towards the match. I began to overthink about how they may react when you approach them in such a manner, despite harmless intentions.

“Excuse me”, my voice creaked as I spoke, “Pardon my interruptions, I am a photographer and I enjoy capturing special moments, I couldn’t help a moment ago noticing how you two framed against the foundation. I hope you don’t mind”, but my words were much less confident than usual. Normally I approach with a sense of surety but it seems the other night's events had really left their mark as I felt my hands quiver as I lifted the photo towards the young lady, “I’m just a believer that a moment captured is to ensure a moment is never forgotten.”

Their expressions were hard to read, they seemed sceptical of me but both looked down at the paper.

Her expression softened, “‘This is beautiful, thank you’, her face seemed to sparkle, “we actually just bought our first house near here and today was our first official day. We decided to go for a walk in our new neighbourhood to take a breath and appreciate this new chapter”, she paused for a moment, eyes still looking at the photo, “what a beautiful way to remember this day”.

The man beside her gave her arm a gentle caress, “yeah man, thanks for that”, he spoke, giving me a grateful tap on the arm, “we’ll have to stick it on the mantle as soon as we get in, sounds like a great place for it doesn’t it hun?”. She nodded happily. 

My chest felt warm, “I’m happy you like it”.

“We love it, thank you. Can I give you anything for it?”, her hand went into her pocket.

“No, it's okay. I don’t do this for that reason”.

“Oh please let me”, with her hand she grabbed my own and placed something into my hand.

The couple turned into each other, her still holding the photo to show him again, giggling while she did show. They exchanged soft but happy murmurs and with one final smile and ‘thanks’ they left to continue on with their day. 

I looked at the object in my hand, a twenty euro note sat crumpled.

Clutching my camera, I watched them walk off. I couldn’t help but allow a small smile to slip onto my face, knowing that perhaps the small chirp in her step as she went was because of me.

A quick flash and the sound of a shutter I’m all too familiar with resonated from my side. I glanced about. Approaching me was a woman, a camera draped about her neck. 

“Hi’, her voice was soft, her smile was pleasant, ‘sorry to interrupt, but I just wished to show you a photo I captured. I enjoy taking photos of people you see”.

She handed the small polaroid over to me and I stared at it, studying its contents. 

In it was a man. A small smile hinted on his face but beaming with simple serenity. He was tired, there were subtle bags under his eyes, he was lined, probably from spending long days in the sun but he was happy, in this moment he was happy. Though it was subtle, the delicate smile on his face changed everything. 

I clutched onto this polaroid and for a moment I realised, for all the photos I have taken, for all the memories I have captured, none have been my own. 

I brought the photo to my chest and looked up into those gentle blue eyes that saw me in that moment, that is seeing me now.

“Thank you”, my voice was barely noticeable, unknowing a lump had built in my throat and now thinking about it, I could feel the oncoming tears in my eyes, I bit my cheek to hold them back, “what's your name?”.

Her face changed, surprised by my question but still happy, ‘I’m Delilah’.

‘Thank you, Delilah’, I smiled at her, my voice stronger now, my tone sincere but with a small ache to it, "Would you perhaps”, I gestured to my camera, “like to join me for a walk?”, and without having to explain the reason to the gesture she smiled,

“You know what, that could be lovely”.

And no different than the couple from before, we walked off together to continue our day. Our eyes searching for inspiration, my feet moving with a small skip I’ve not felt in a long time.