Someone asks a question - a hypothetical one, not really soliciting an answer.  A person makes a statement, based on an observation maybe a conversation starter, maybe random, maybe in the course of an ongoing conversation.  Questions cannot remain unanswered, comments and observations can not go unsresponded to in the mind of...

Who is the lion?  The lion is the king of the conversation jungle and an expert on every topic.  No comment is allowed to dangle in the air for rumination by the listener(s).  The lion sees it as a unlucky zebra.  The lion sees himsellf as lucky however because prey has just crossed their path, ripe for the pouncing and devouring.  The Lioness sees an opportunity in a comment as arbitrary as "it sure is hot today" to display her meteorological chops explaining high pressure systems, heat domes and how a La Nina is driving the heatwave.  The Lion doesn't realize that "it sure is hot today" only means that the commentor is feeling the heat.  If they want anything, it's likely not an explanation of the origin of the hotness, what they really want is a cold drink.

The Lioness doesn't know the difference between the arbitrary and the profound, because her appetite for prey, her appetite for flexing, her appetite for checking (when she hears something that is presumbably wrong) is unsatiable.  The lion is very social, but once he gets going he can suck the air right out of the room.  The lioness is intellectual and very bright, but that brightness is dimmed because she

TALKS TOO MUCH.

The lion is attractive, stylish and definitely has swagger, but it all disappears when he tells you about the barber who cuts his hair, the fabric of which his suit is made and the thought that was put into putting together his ensemble. By the time the listener receives this unsolicted explanation on the lion's tailoring, the lion

LOSES ALL SWAGGER.

So why give them any play at all, I mean the lion and lioness are attention whores right?

Sure they are but if you delve behind all that mouth, there is a story.  That story likely won't come out all at once, because that story is PRIVATE.  However you will catch a glimpse of their story in their interactions, in their tone and in their interests.  When we put together pieces of their story, we begin to understand, to tolerate and even love the lion(ess) in all their expertly talky glory.  Besides, there's a little lion(ess) in all of us, does that make us any less loveable?

So... show a little tenderness to the Lions and Lionesses in your life today.

In all seriousness though, this primping in front of the camera thing has nothing at all to do with vanity, but has everything to do with celebration.

I love all things photography and of course this goes way way way back.  There was always a gang of cameras in our home.  My dad -- we'll call him the professional always had the latest and greatest equipment.  I recall going on family vacations and posing for those dreaded vacation photos.  My sisters and I standing there rolling our eyes as he would do all this lens focusing. My mother was the historian, she had cameras as well, usually of the instant variety from Polaroid or the trusty Kodak Instamatic that had the flash on top in the shape of a cube.  Not wanting to be left out of the picture I got my first camera somewhere around 1976 a Kodak Pocket Instamatic with the long rectangular flash. Since those days I've had many cameras. Right now the camera I'm using is a fab point and shoot for us amateur shutterbugs, the Canon Powershot sx130 Which gets a workout because I ALWAYS have it with me.

Having taken many photos and posed for more than a few there was a space of seven years, in which all that picture taking was virtually shut down.  I still did it for my church, still took photos of my family, but was loathe to stand in front of a camera.  The few hanging around of me show me smiling and even clowning because that's what you're supposed to do. However, when I saw the finished product I always hated what I saw.  Until finally I resulted to ducking when a camera was pointed at me.

I was ashamed, embarrassed and saddened by what I saw.  The person I saw could not have been me.  She was on SWOLE!  As they say though pictures don't lie and in my case another old adage held true "a picture is worth a thousand words".  The swollen pictures really told on me -- what I'd been doing and going through.

By 2008 life had changed DRAMATICALLY. I don't know what happened or what made me decide to do it but one Sunday before going to church I decided to take a picture of myself.  Maybe I liked the dress, maybe I was feeling particularly happy that day I don't know but I took the picture and I liked it.  Then I kept doing it.  I figured Sunday is the day that I give my best effort (because it's all downhill the rest of the week effort wise) and it's usually the day in which I feel the most optimistic so why not capture that.

Why do I do it?

Not to feed some narcissistic need, not because I think I'm hot.  Anyone who knows me, knows that I think I'm so NOT hot.  I do it because I'm celebrating the gift of struggle and the gift of success on the other side of through.  I do it because I want to be reminded that trouble don't last always. I do it because I'm no longer ashamed and hope that in some way I can pass on to somebody else that they don't need to be ashamed now or ever for who they are, where they came from and definitely not for what they look like.

There's some healing in a camera -- pick up one and get yours.