Chapter 4: Max Caulfield

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Max Caulfield's pov:

~It is raining heavily. The forest and the lighthouse pathway are lit up momentarily by lightning flashes. I wake up lying on the ground and I slowly stand and look around. Where am I? What's happening? (Gets up) I'm trapped in a storm? How did I get here? ...and where is "here"? I turned and noticed the lighthouse in the distance. Wait... There's the lighthouse... I'll be safe if I can make it there... I hope... Please let me make it there... I slowly walked towards the lighthouse and lift up my left arm to protect myself from the wind. Come on Max, you can make it... I thought as I reached the lighthouse and sees a tornado approaching Arcadia Bay. "Holy shit." I gasped and all of the sudden, the tornado blows up a boat, which hits the lighthouse and breaks it in two. The upper portion starts to fall towards me. "Whoa! No!"~

I wake up and examine my surroundings as my heart is about to burst out of my chest. Whoa! That was so surreal. "Alfred Hitchcock famously called film "little pieces of time" but he could be talking about photography, as he likely was-" Okay... I'm in class... Stella's pen falls on the floor. Everything's cool... I'm okay... "These pieces of time can frame us in our glory and our sorrow; from light to shadow; from color to chiaroscuro... " Taylor throws a paper ball at Kate. "Now can you give me an example of a photographer who perfectly captured the human condition in black and white? Anybody? Bueller?" Mr. Jefferson asked glancing around at the students, Victoria's phone vibrates. I didn't fall asleep, and... that sure didn't feel like a dream... Weird. "Diane Arbus. " Victoria answered and Mr. Jefferson smiled. "There you go, Victoria! Why Arbus?" He asked and she smiled at him back. " Because of her images of hopeless faces. You feel like, totally haunted by the eyes of those sad mothers and children." She explained and he glanced at us. "She saw humanity as tortured, right? And frankly, it's bullshit. Shh, keep that to yourself. Seriously though, I could frame any one of you in a dark corner, and capture you in a moment of desperation. And any one of you could do that to me. Isn't that too easy? Too obvious? What if Arbus chose to capture people at the height of their beauty or innocence? She had a brilliant eye, so she could have taken another approach." He lectured and Victoria rolled her eyes. "I have to admit, I'm not a big fan of her work. I prefer... Robert Frank." She said and Jefferson nodded. "Me too, Victoria. He captured the essence of post-war, beat America. And there was honesty about the economic conditions of the era, but a beauty in the struggle. You don't have beauty without a beat. Which explains why Frank was Kerouac's photographic muse and both were great chroniclers of the 1950s. Well... We've all seen that iconic shot of Kerouac on the balcony -and if you haven't, shame, shame- capturing the romantic urban solitude of the 20th century poet. You dig? Now, contrast Frank's stark Americana with Salvador Dali's surrealist photographs. Like Cocteau, he was a true renaissance man, and his famous self-portraits are famous early examples of that truly awful word you pesky kids love so much, the "selfie". And it's a great tradition, and I wholeheartedly fight for your right to self-expression. Or selfie-expression. Heh, sorry, I know. So if anybody wants to question the portrait as modern narcissism, they could go back hundreds of years to blame society. Speaking of questions, I bet you thought I'd talk all the way until the bell rang. It's your turn to lecture us. Now, based on the chapters I have no doubt you all memorized, who can tell me the name of the actual process that led to the birth of the self-portrait? Anybody? ... This does not bode well. Just jump right in with an answer. This was in the chapters you read. You did read the chapters, right? Your silence is deafening. If this were a photo, I'd call it a still life." He said as I glanced down at my entry photo. Look at this crap! How can I show this to Mr. Jefferson? I can hear the class laughing at me now. I decided to take a selfie with my camera. "Shh, I believe Max has taken what you kids call a "selfie"... A dumb word for a wonderful photographic tradition. And Max... has a gift. Of course, as you all know, the photo portrait has been popular since the early 1800's. Your generation was not the first to use images for selfie-expression. Sorry. I couldn't resist. The point remains that the portraiture has always been a vital aspect of art, and photography, for as long as it's been around. Now Max, since you've captured our interest and clearly want to join the conversation, can you please tell us the name of the process that gave birth to the first self-portraits?" He asked and my mind went blank. "I did know! ...But I kinda forgot." I said shyly and he slammed his hand of the desk. "You either know this or not, Max. Is there anybody here who knows their stuff?" He asked angrily and Victoria raised her hand. "Louis Daguerre was a French painter who created "daguerreotypes", a process that gave portraits a sharp reflective style, like a mirror." She turns towards me. " Now you're totally stuck in the Retro Zone. Sad face." She teased as her friend Taylor laughs. So immature "Very good, Victoria. The Daguerreian Process brought out fine detail in people's faces, making them extremely popular from the 1800's onward. The first American daguerreotype self-portrait was done by Robert Cornelius. You can find out all about him... In your textbook. Or even... online." He added as the bell rings. Finally... "And guys, don't forget the deadline to submit a photo in the "Everyday Heroes" contest. I'll fly out with the winner to San Francisco where you'll be feted by the art world. It's great exposure and it can kickstart a career in photography. So Stella and Alyssa, get it together. Taylor, don't hide, I'm still waiting for your entry too. And yes Max, I see you pretending not to see me." He said as he walked off to his desk and I scoffed. Victoria doesn't waste a second kissing ass... I glanced at my friend, Kate Marsh, she's constantly bullied by Victoria and her friends, but I like being around her, she's so calming. "Hi, Kate." I greeted and she looked up, giving me a weak smile. "Oh, hi Max." She said and I gave her a concern stare. "You seem quiet today." I said and she looked at me. "Just thinking too much..." She sighed and I smiled at her. "I hear that. Want to go grab a cup o' tea and bitch about life?" I asked and she sighed. "Thanks, but not today. I have to go over homework." She said and I nodded. "No worries. Let's hang later." I said and she nodded. "Sure." I walked over to Jefferson and Victoria. " Yes Victoria, you still have to do your homework this week, even if you're submitting your photo for the competition. Everybody in class is turning a photo, so you see the dilemma." He says as Victoria was leaning over his desk. " I know, Mr. Jefferson. I just worked so hard on this shot, and I'm sure you know what it's like to be consumed by your work. I just really think "Everyday Heroes" is an important cultural event and I want to represent Blackwell Academy." She said and he furrowed a brow. "You have just by participating, by putting yourself out there in the world. Well, no matter who wins, this is just a bump on a bigger road. I don't want anybody to feel excluded from this process. But I also want everybody to know that this photographic world is not for everybody. I had my moment in the camera eye and everybody should have that chance, right?" He asked and she nodded. "Oh totally. I only want to share whatever gifts I have with the world..." She agreed and I approached Victoria and Jefferson. "Excuse me, Mr. Jefferson, can I talk to you for moment?" I stammered and Victoria glared at me. "Yes, excuse you." "No, Victoria, excuse us. I'd never let one of photography's future stars avoid handing in her picture." He said and I sighed. "I didn't have any time... Way too much homework." I lied and He raised a brow. "Max, you're a better photographer than a liar... Now I know it's a drag to hear some old dude lecture you... but life won't wait for you to play catch-up. You're young, the world is yours, blah blah blah, right? But you do have a gift, you have the fever to take images, to frame the world only the way you envision it. Now, all you need is the courage to share your gift with others. That's what separates the artist, from the amateur." He said and continued his conversation with Victoria, I left the art class. Welcome to the real world... I glanced around at the students and I sighed. I need a serious time out in the bathroom. Splash water on my face and make sure I don't look like a total loser.

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