through a lens calmly

parties freak me out.

i’m a writer and i’m a shy person. i’m quiet. i like to observe. i like to be inconspicuous. i like to blend into the wallpaper. i like to be home and in my pyjamas early. parties usually require, if not demand, you not be any of those things. as such, parties and i do not get along.

at parties, i get nervous. i always feel awkward and self-conscious, as though i’m suddenly 12 years old and at the school dance. i feel like i immediately morph into a socially awkward dweeb. a moron with the grace of a linebacker.

i’m not very good at small talk and i frequently get all stumbly and stutter-y. i feel like everything that comes out of my mouth lands with a big clunk on the floor in front of me and i often want to leave the party almost as soon as i’ve arrived. sometimes i do.

but yesterday i discovered the magic cloak of a camera lens.

i was at a party where, even though i knew everyone in attendance, all those familiar, party-panic feelings arose. i could feel myself eyeing the clock and mentally calculating when i could head for the door.

and then i was handed a Fancy Camera and told, “here, take some pictures!”

wait. what?

it was a full-frame-format nikon D700 with a 50mm f1.4 lens (i asked), which meant i could snap photos in dim light (without a flash) and still have the images turn out well-lit. the camera is expensive and the size of a small tank... and, much to my delight, i got to play with it for the rest of the night.

suddenly, i had a purpose. i could be alone at the party and not feel bad or self-conscious or mortified about it because i had something to do. i could circulate and be a part of the proceedings at a comfortable distance. i could wield the hulking device strapped around my neck, peer through the viewfinder and watch and record and capture moments from the proverbial shadows. i could be present without having to be in the spotlight.

when the music was cranked high and folks hit the dance floor, i hung back. i hang back, it’s what i do. i don’t dance (in public) and i don’t drink (anywhere), so i don’t use hooch to grease the comfort wheels enough to get me to dance freely when other people might see me. this time, though, i could avoid feeling like a wooden lump and, instead, occupy myself by snapping pictures. i could wind my way through a tangle of bodies to aim the lens and shoot. i could sit on the floor and try weird angles and maneuvre through the room without focusing on how i looked or what anyone might think.

and, in doing so, i was able to relax. i love photography and can lose myself in it, so it was fun. i was happy to be the designated photographer for the night. having the camera in front of me was like wearing something of a protective shield. (until, of course, it was forcibly removed and i was literally dragged by my waist to the dance floor, but that's another story.)

i still don’t like parties. i’m still a subdued observer. i’m still a shy person and a wallflower at heart. and i would still rather stay home.

fortunately, though, i now know that relief from some of those queasy-stomach, i-want-to-disappear feelings might be as close as a shutter-release button.

and that i might survive a party by busying myself taking shots like this one (from last night’s shindig):