When I get images back from a photo session it’s time to apply the critical eye… and sometimes bust out the Photoshop. This might not apply to those of you working with photographers who are editing everything before you even see it, or whose images you are contractually obligated not to tamper with, but it applies to many if not most of us.
I don’t use Photoshop for massive changes, but I will replace a cropped foot, remove strands of hair from my mouth, smooth the lines and bulges caused by keeping my bra tight enough for performances. I will also fix necklaces that have flipped, that sort of thing. I want to still look like my but I also want to like what I see. I’m human. We’re all a little terrified of our visual truth. I’m ok with how different I look out of make-up, with my fellow dancers not recognizing me in workshops, but if I show up for a job I should look like the woman they thought they hired. I want to remain real enough in my shots. I want the me in my photos to have skin that has the texture of skin. I don’t want to be shinned and blurred to a plastic finish. I don’t want someone to look at my photo and wonder what is real.
Still, there’s a point in the pixel clicking and the checking and double checking that I just need to get some of the Demons of Photoshop out of my system. You know the Demons. They are of the same evil miasma that hangs out in old sci-fi movies where someone must eventually wring their hands and say, “My God, man! Just because science CAN do it…” It’s then that I must take a break, save what I have, open a different image, and act out. That is when I abuse the liquefy distortion tool until I am the woman my mother worried I’d want to be when she bought me my first Barbie. That is when I am suddenly dancing on the moon, in an old Orientalist painting, through the looking glass, and on a horse with the man my man could smell like. Color Saturation? Hellloooo Sexy Krishna, would you like some more arms? More arms to hold Don Draper? There you go!
( Photo and image blather )
