The Art of the Photo

When our daughter was visiting last month, I asked my husband to take a picture of me with her, her brother and her daughter. Here was his first attempt.

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This from a guy who shoots his age or better on the golf course and wields a remote control like it’s his third hand.

True, he doesn’t use a camera much–he hasn’t needed to because his own personal assistant (me) has followed him around. If you look at pictures from some of our trips you’d think I wasn’t along. There he is with the Masai chief.

Moe and the Maasai discussing multiple wives

 

 

There he is in Venice.

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And enjoying a Hawaiian evening or two.

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But where am I?

This started early in our relationship. Here he is at the Rocky Point restaurant where he asked me to marry him. It’s a charming photo of a young couple in love. Oh, wait, I’m not in it.

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At least I made it into a wedding picture:

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But here we are on our honeymoon.

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You can kinda tell that my husband thinks all of these photo shoots are his due. His family took pictures of him before he could stand on his own.

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I’ve just continued the tradition.

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Someone reminded me about selfies. I’m trying to learn how to take them.

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One response to “The Art of the Photo

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