September 13, 2006

Channeling Sam

I take a lot of photographs of myself. So many, in fact, that I have considered writing up a tutorial about how to take good, or at least interesting and clear, photographs of yourselves while modeling knitwear. I've taken so many pictures of me, that I'm rarely suprised by what I get. Let alone freaked out.

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When I got this particular series off the camera, however, I was struck by the way I looked like my brother, Sam, who passed away almost 5 years ago. We have always looked alike, which is something that I treasured in the past, and treasure even more now that I no longer have his face to look at. What I didn't realize until right now is that we really look alike when we don't smile so much. We have a far away look that is the same. So I often don't see him in my photos because I smile.

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I was with my friend Kat last night, and talked about Sam more than I have in a long while. I was upset about something else, but I must have needed to talk about him, even though I didn't know it. I think today that I am channeling Sam, if only through myself, and although it is a little eerie, it's nice because I miss him. I can see these pictures as the kind my children - the ones I have not yet had - pull out to show their children long after I am gone. They already have the look of something far away. Over-exposed and washed out. I like them.

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I was going to do pattern notes on Thelma, but I will leave that until another day. I am sure you understand.

Posted by Julia at September 13, 2006 08:48 PM
In main | sam | thelma

Comments

When I think of you -- comes with stumbles across your website, autumn leaves, bike rides across the Nickel Bridge -- I think of your parent's house looming large and white in the night; your kamikaze cat who would leap from the stairs and sink its claws into passers-by; "Walk to the Water" by U2; your brother looking almost as beautiful as you every time I met him. Lots of things, but those most of all. I hope you are well and basking in California. Come visit.

Posted by: John at September 16, 2006 05:04 PM

Beautiful post. I believe photos show exactly what they're meant to, even if its not what you thought you were capturing when you opened the shutter.

Posted by: gale (she shoots sheep shots) at September 15, 2006 10:36 PM

Funny how our dear departed ones find ways into our lives that we don't always expect. I'm finding myself missing my grandmother so much as I'm planning my wedding, and I didn't expect it to be this way.

Posted by: Mia at September 15, 2006 05:12 PM

A lovely post, lovely pictures, and I love Thelma. I agree with you about the overexposed photos -- they really capture something.

Posted by: Norma at September 15, 2006 07:42 AM

A lovely piece, Julia. The Sam in my life is my father, and I hope I'd have the same dignity and grace in talking about him as you do for your brother, Sam.

Posted by: Elspeth at September 15, 2006 05:05 AM

Thanks to everyone for sharing your thoughts on this post. I meant to turn off the comments, but I'm so glad that I didn't. Everyone has had such insightful things to say.

Amy - I use a self-timer for my photos, but you could use a remote as well. The thing about the self-timer is that you have a little less control, which I kind of like because the photos turn out to feel a little more spontaneous in nature.

Posted by: Julia at September 14, 2006 04:42 PM

What a lovely homage to your brother. Thanks for sharing it with all of us.

Posted by: Christine at September 14, 2006 01:38 PM

Thelma is lovely, Julia. I really like the light-blue stripe at the bottom. Your color choices, as always, are perfect.

Posted by: Ellen at September 14, 2006 01:21 PM

Oh, Julia. Much love. Beautiful writing, beautiful Thelma... beautiful friend!

Posted by: Mary-Heather at September 14, 2006 01:07 PM

Thelma looks great. Thanks for sharing that little bit of your brother with all of us.

(And a technical question: Do you use a wireless remote to take self-portraits, or a timer?)

Posted by: Amy at September 14, 2006 12:24 PM

I am so happy that Sam came to visit for a bit. It always comforts me to think that we never truly lose anyone, that they are just in a better place waiting for our turn to join them. Whenever I feel like they've come for a visit, it's a comfort to think that they miss me just as much as I miss them.

Posted by: knittingnurse at September 14, 2006 10:39 AM

I've been a lurker on your blog for years - so sorry about your brother. I, too, have recently lost a brother, and your post made me a bit teary. I think that I channel my bro everyday...........

Posted by: christine at September 14, 2006 10:36 AM

I think they are wonderful pictures, and a real gift you gave yourself. Seeing the ones we love, even in our own face, gives us a piece of them we can see. That goes beautifully with the presence of them we feel. You look gorgeous.

Posted by: Nicole at September 14, 2006 10:07 AM

Isn't it interesting how some little thing or another can spark such thoughts and memories? That happens with me and thoughts of my mom. I know we have talked about this all before. It's hard, but also really good to have these moments of reflection, I think. Thank you for sharing your thoughts. And the photos. I think they're perfect. Thinking about you today. xo.

Posted by: Nonnahs at September 14, 2006 09:54 AM

Isn't that interesting? Whenever I see a picture of myself that doesn't look like "me," or even sometimes, passing a mirror, I always tell myself that I'm just seeing Susan (my identical twin who only lived several hours). And in fact, I have a photo of me and Chappy at home that's double-exposed, and Mom and I think that Susan and Katy (Chappy's predecessor) just wanted in on the action. (It's a nice thought behind the lousy photography, anyway.) But anyway, the point is, it's always interesting how, sometimes, other family members appear in your face for no other reason than, apparently, to say hello.

Oh, and if you wanted to do a self-knitting-portrait tutorial, that would be just wonderful!

Posted by: --Deb at September 14, 2006 09:16 AM

I love it when photos come out not quite right but somehow they're perfect the way they are.

What a nice remembrance of your brother, Julia.

Posted by: MJ at September 14, 2006 09:13 AM

I sometimes see my dad in photos of myself... and I wonder what other non-physical bits I mirror, too. I think it happens more when the person's not around to ask.

Love the hat with the top.

Posted by: Laura at September 14, 2006 09:09 AM

Beautiful Thelma, beautiful photo shoot, beautiful sentiments.

Posted by: Leslie at September 14, 2006 09:08 AM


found your website through someone else's blog.

i've been really impressed by how great your photos are, and i would love to read a tutorial on how to take great self-portraits on a digicam.

best.

Posted by: purlypuss at September 14, 2006 09:00 AM

*hugs*

Posted by: sharlyn at September 14, 2006 08:14 AM

I relate so intensely to the startling feeling of looking at yourself and seeing that person you lost, instead. I'm the mirror image of my father, and every now and then I'll look at a picture and realize I've got that head tilt, the slightly skeptical look, or the squint that he always had.

And it's like he's in the room with me again.

I'm glad you get to remember Sam, like I get to remember Henry.

Also, lovely sweater!

Posted by: Jenica at September 14, 2006 08:06 AM

I've seen a few pictures of Sam and I think you are right, the resemblance is pretty clear when you aren't smiling.

Sometimes a little dip in your past can be really good for your soul.

Thelma, by the way, looks wonderful on you.

Posted by: Marnie at September 14, 2006 07:21 AM

great photo shoot girl.

talking about the hard stuff is uplifting...

Posted by: loriz at September 14, 2006 06:08 AM

Beautiful pictures, and beautiful post. Thanks, sweetie!

Posted by: Carrie at September 14, 2006 06:00 AM

It is amazing how our lost loved ones can come back to us at the least expected times. Thanks for sharing with us about Sam.

And you're right, those will be treasured photos of you by those who love you now and in the future.

Posted by: Liz K. at September 14, 2006 05:21 AM

Beautiful photographs. Light can make you see all. :)

Posted by: Cara at September 14, 2006 04:52 AM

I'm glad you got a chance to talk about Sam. Funny how the universe finds a way of telling us what we need.

Posted by: Amy Boogie at September 14, 2006 04:42 AM

Wish I could hug you, is all I can say.

Posted by: Lee Ann at September 14, 2006 04:06 AM

i agree absolutely with how you describe them - they also have a look of the old west, with your hat and your fierce face, it's just really lovely all together. and man, you totally rock that top, go you.

it's spooky but unexpectedly comfy to see family resemblences sometimes, isn't it? i'm like that with my nieces, and i look just like my grandma too some say - i love that continuity and can't wait to see it in future generations. anyhow, a nice hug out to you ~ and how's the spinning going? i'm still drooling over my yarn. ;)

Posted by: andrea at September 13, 2006 10:41 PM

Beautiful, all around.

Posted by: Lauren at September 13, 2006 09:41 PM

I am so sorry for your loss. I have a brother sam as well.

thelma is beautiful, as are the photos.

Posted by: Rose at September 13, 2006 09:35 PM