seeing: the virtual camera is always on

One doesn’t stop seeing. One doesn’t stop framing. It doesn’t turn off and turn on. It’s on all the time. Annie Leibovitz

I found the above quote by Annie Leibovitz on a wonderful website for photographers: PhotoQuotes. When you need a shot of inspiration, stop by. Leibovitz’s words resonated with me.

For a long time I dreamed of immersing myself in and photographing a culture other than my own. And then one day in 2004 I came to Mexico and virtually never left. Mexico is a photographer’s paradise. Life here is lived out loud and with great gusto. Mexicanos love on the streets, pray on the streets and eat on the streets. And the flavors of both the life and the food are spicy, vivid and pungent.

One evening not too long ago I sat on my roof terrace gazing at the beauty of the mountains on the horizon. I began to breathe in the aroma of taco stands coming to life for the night. I was drawn to the promise of mouthwatering goodness. I stepped outside and gingerly worked my way across uneven cobblestones to the small alleyway around the corner. There people lined the narrow street patiently waiting in front of the aluminum-clad food stand for orders of their beloved carnitas (pork chopped fine and served with tortillas, tacos and a myriad of condiments: finely chopped cilantro, radishes, onions, spicy salsa. and the ever-present fresh lime). I waited in line for a very long time, the only non-Mexican in the crowd.

Finally, a helper motioned that a place was open at one of the plastic folding tables inside. I greeted a couple seated at the table with their boy—maybe about eight years old. Soon they left. Immediately more people rushed to find a seat at the table, one a muscular chap in his 20’s wearing an undershirt framing his beautifully molded biceps. He quickly consumed 8 or 9 overstuffed carnita-filled tacos and went to the front stand to order more.

Suddenly sheets of rain pounded against the corrugated fiberglass rooftop sounding like a Chichimeca drumming performance. The TV droned on in the background, people talked and laughed and children squealed with delight as they always do here. We squeezed in closer as the people waiting in the street piled into the small space. The smells of the cooking hung in the air. I remember looking at a woman in a yellow top, drenched, entering from the street with its lights causing misty shadows through the rain.

All of this happened and I had not brought my camera. I could have had a little secret tantrum and suffered the loss, but to what end? Instead I turned it around. I knew that being there in the midst of the moment with these people was another step in knowing them. Already the experience had found its way into my awareness and vision. Because of moments like these, more authenticity, feeling and respect would be reflected in images to come. And of course, it wouldn’t hurt to have the camera at the ready.