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March 31st, 2013 - 08:56 AM
I remember the first decent photo I took. I mean the first photo you could actually tell the content of. It was a picture of my brother. He was about one year old and sitting in his stroller waving at me. I was nine. We were in Workington, England visiting my grandparents, and someone gave me a small camera and some film.
On this journey I learned more than not to shake my camera while shooting. This was in 1970 and old England was struggling. Jobs were scarce, and there was not a lot of money on peopleís hands. Still there was this urge to take care of each other and help each other out.
My grandma took me to the market to buy vegetables. She introduced me to a man who sold eggs from a booth. He used to know my mother when she lived there. His sad face brightened up when he was told that I was her daughter, and he gave me two eggs. I got the impression that he used to have a crush on my mom. It seemed important to him to give me something, just any odd thing he could afford to give away.
Further down the line of market booths my grandma met another friend trying to sell her goods, and she gave me two tomatoes, one for me and one for my brother. I had never received gifts like these before, but they taught me something about helping each other and caring even when youíre struggling in a fight of your own.
I still have the photo of my brother in his stroller (Iíll post it when I find it), and it always reminds me of this strong memory from the trip to England. If I knew how, I would paint a picture of the woman handing a little girl two tomatoes from her booth . Unfortunately I am not a painter, I will have to settle with the image that occurs in my mind when looking at a totally different picture.