Richard Charles

I acquired my first camera sometime in the late 80’s. I was maybe eight or nine at the time, and after begging my parents constantly to let me have a go with an old Kodak I’d found in the back of a cupboard, my father finally gave in and sat me down to impart his wisdom on the art of picture taking.

He was careful to explain to me that films and processing were not cheap and so I was only to take a picture of something if I truly thought it was worthwhile. I was also to do my best to make sure the subject of the image remained entirely within the frame and that I didn’t hold the camera at a jaunty angle. “I don’t want a collection of photographs with bodies and no heads or arms and legs” he said to me.

I shot my first roll of film at Dudley Zoo on a dull, cloudy day. I didn’t care about the weather though – I was finally out with my camera. Afterwards my mother and I took the film down to Hawkswood’s chemist, in Wollaston, to be developed. Several days later, after what seemed like a lifetime of waiting, the time finally came when the photographs were ready for collection. I was like a bottle of cheap Panda cherryade, fizzing with excitement to see my first set of photos. And actually the result wasn’t too bad. A bit blurry and out of focus here and there, but no severed heads. I had taken heed of my father’s words and the majority of the shots were well composed. My mother ensured me that I would get better with practice, and I did.

Every family day out my trusty Kodak would accompany us and I would carefully shoot the full twenty four frames (maybe twenty five if I was lucky) without wasting a single shot.

Fast forward a few decades and not much has changed. My camera is bigger and more expensive, but I still get that same child-like excitement every time I pick up my camera and step out the front door. After a shoot I still have the same anticipation to see the images, although nowadays I don’t have to wait quite as long. And as my father taught me, I try never to waste a shot.