During my last year of school I worked for a real estate agent taking pictures. The pictures required varied from a simple shot of the front of the house to pictures of the whole interior, to pictures documenting damage to foreclosed homes. It was the perfect job for me while I was in school; the hours were flexible, the money was decent for a part time job, and I got to take my dog, Emma, with me most of the time. We had some great adventures driving around and exploring new places.
In the course of this job I came to be fairly good at getting some pretty decent pictures of houses and rooms. I still don’t take the best pictures of people or pets, but I’m usually happy with my pictures of homes and buildings. For me the best pictures of exteriors seem to involve standing kind of in the middle of the street; right in front of the building you’re too close and across the street zooming in you lose some focus and get a slightly blurry picture.
I no longer take pictures of homes for work, but I do still love to get pictures of interesting buildings, especially any time we go out of town. I’ve never thought much of standing in the street to get the pictures. I’m careful, wait until there’s no traffic, and can usually get the picture really fast since I know exactly where I need to stand. I haven’t been run over yet, so I’m claiming success.
Enter my husband. As I’ve mentioned before, he’s a volunteer firefighter; he’s also safety conscious to a degree that most of us can’t even comprehend. He counts doors, rows, aisles, anything between us and the nearest exit, which he immediately finds. He carries around a jumbo first aid kit (I’m not even sure what all of the stuff in it is), and he’ super safety conscious about hot pans, sharp objects, traffic, etc. Then there’s me, the walking disaster. I’m a constant collection of burns, cuts, bruises, etc. I try to be careful, but things just happen, though I still haven’t managed to get myself run over.
So the first time we went out of town and I tried to march out into the street for the perfect picture of a great building he got a little upset. He seemed to think I was risking my life for a good photo. I spent about thirty minutes trying to get a great picture from several different angles, and just couldn’t get the right one. Finally, in the spirit of compromise, we agreed that I wouldn’t be risking immediate death and dismemberment if I stood in the street for a picture (only one at a time) while my husband watched for traffic. It’s a system that works for us. He has decided that I probably won’t get run over that way, and I still get my great pictures of buildings. These are some pictures that I took in Charleston, South Carolina. I think they’re definitely worth standing in the street to get.