Tina's Blog

Hi, I’m Tina Chisnell; welcome to my blog. If you are a prospective client please take a moment to browse through the showcase pages for examples of my portrait photography.

 I like to think of this blog as my virtual scrap book; it’s the place where I keep the other photos and stories I collect as I go about my days, building my business around my passion. 

Appachen

November 08, 2018
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There was a moment a long time ago. My Grandad had died; my father was devastated. The day after and possibly several days after that, he barely said a word.

 It’s tradition in his…our culture to “celebrate” after 40 days of a family member’s death – I’ve never really questioned why, maybe I should.

My parents prepared for this occasion for days; they invited all their friends into our home. Lots of food was prepared with the help of some close friends; I remember the house was buzzing with an air of anticipation – I’m even not sure that’s the right word to describe it. When the time came, the house was jam packed; it was moving to see just how many people came to pay respect to my Grandad who pretty much all of them had never even met since he lived in India. They came to support my Dad and that was touching. People ate, drank, talked and it felt like a celebration.

The morning after, I came downstairs and found my Dad sitting at the dining table in his usual seat at the head of the table. I sat down with him ready to eat breakfast I think. He looked at me and said, “Lots of people came yesterday, it was a success.” His voice broke as he spoke again, “The only mistake was we didn’t take any photos.” He cried. My father doesn’t cry, at least not in front of me. I moved over a seat towards him, a lump in my throat and asked him not to cry with tears in my own eyes.

My father wanted photographs of this event not for himself but for his mother, brothers and sister in India. He wanted them to see how their father, his mother’s husband, had been remembered and his life celebrated even all those thousands of miles away in England. He wanted that moment documented.

I went to University after that. I bought my first camera and I documented everything. I’m not sure if the reason behind this was what my father had said that day but I have never forgotten the shear grief and regret he had from not being able to share that precious moment with the people he loved back home in India.

Today, I still document everything – maybe to the point of other people’s annoyance. It’s totally worth it and I’m sure some day someone, somewhere will be glad I did.