HOW TO MINDFULLY PHOTOGRAPH ANIMAL ROOMMATES

CREATURELY REFLECTIONS

- SARAH BOWEN

“I AM NOT AMUSED,” Deacon seems to say, his pupils mere slits. Before my intrusion, the cat slept in the sun. Now, I hover, zooming in with my camera. I struggle with whether to continue, feeling guilty.

While I can’t be confident of Deacon’s thoughts, by turning his head away and repositioning his legs, he seems to signal, “No, human.” I concede it is not a moment that needs to be documented for eternity.

Backing away, I remember a photograph taken decades ago, a sepia print of my family in an American frontier saloon, suggesting gold rushes and bandits, “beasts” to be tamed and “savages” to be civilized. Pictured is the Wild Wild West, romanticized by a 1980s theme park vendor in the urbanized Great Plains, now called Kansas City.

My six-year-old sister sits center in a corset and feathered boa, amusingly placed on my father’s lap. She is quite obviously dressed as a “soiled dove” (i.e., a town prostitute). Nearby, my mother stands displeased in a high-necked dress. Between them, I appear unwillingly, my face formed in a scowl. My interior thoughts are clear to any viewer. I do not want to be photographed.

First, notice why you photograph.

Contemplate for a moment the last animal photograph you took. Who is pictured? Why did you snap it?

I’ve come to believe my own impulse is driven by a desire to document, a drive to impress, or a response to an internal emotion. Or a combination of these.

In the case of sleeping Deacon, I felt pleased and relaxed. “Oh look, the skittish cat is