The subjects of my photography vary from dolls to stuffed animals, lead soldiers to dinky cars. Prams, toy trains, castles and monopoly have surrounded me.
I managed to work at a rate of 50pph. (For the uninitiated in the "Matt's System of Counting", that is 50 [finished] pictures per hour)
Now that sounds a reasonable rate of photographing, but I had 480 lots to get through! Each photo required meticulous composition, preparation and lighting (I hope my boss is reading this!) It was a time consuming task.
Being seperated from human life by several corridors, doorways, a car-park and a road, led me to become slightly jumpy and my mind began to wander. As the clock ticked on and my stomach started to grumble the bears and dolls took on a whole new slant.
What had, at first, been a sweet doll with an adorable 'puppy dog' expression had turned into a nasty monster with an evil leer. As my eyes panned over the array of creatures my mind played tricks on me; Paddington Bear seemed to be glaring right at me, a stuffed whale was eagerly licking its..... lips? awaiting the moment my back was turned and it could devour me into its foamy insides.
My photo studio had turned into a nightmare. What happened, I wondered, when the lights went out and I left for the night? Did the toys come alive? My imaginative mind began to piece together scenes from Toy Story and Night in the Museum, but with much, much gruesomer plot lines.
I pictured the wars for dominance that doubtless took place each night. The thousands of lead soldiers- mercenaries, crusaders, knights, archers, pikemen, musketeers- all coming alive and commandeering Corby and Matchbox cars in order to blitzkrieg the unsuspecting Barbies, who themselves were reclining in their plastic kitchen with Ken. Did the Star Wars space ship jump into action and bombard the Thomas and Friends Fat Controller who had began to order (as per his job) the myriads of Hornby train sets to ensure that no accidents occurred during his watch.
Did they meet secretly together, plotting how to overthrow their human masters who had enslaved them in this warehouse?
I started to panic.
The doll with the rotating head was looking in my direction (but then he was looking in every direction!)
Wait!
That Action Man was definitely closer than before!
I decided it was time for a lunch break!
Strange isn't it- the tricks your mind plays on you.
It made me think though....
What right do the toys have to command their destinies? What right to "human rights" do they have? If, as I highly suspect, they are planning a coup against their human overlords, what sense of 'justice' or 'right' are can they possible appeal to? They were designed and created for the pleasure of children. Their very purpose in life is to bring joy and happiness to kids. How can they possibly think that they have a 'right' to disagree?
If evolution is true- If I am a monkey gone mad- then an Action Man actually has more of a purpose than I do.
Max Lucado uses the imagery of a cricket (the bug not the game) in his book In the Grip of Grace (which I highly recommend reading). One day during communion at his church, he spotted a cricket wandering around. This led him to ask- can a cricket comprehend communion?
...as far as the cricket is concerned, his entire universe is an auditorium. I can envision him taking his son out of the wall at night and telling him to look up at the rafters. He wraps his clickers around the boy's back and sighs, "It's a mighty sky we live under, son." Does he know he sees only a fraction?.....
Perhaps the best question is, who does a cricket worship? Does he acknowledge that there was a hand behind the building? Or does he choose to worship the building itself? Or perhaps a place in the building? Does he assume that since he has never seen the builder there was no builder? The hedonist does. Since he has never seen the hand who made the universe he assumes there is not life beyond the here and now.....
Is that what my toys assume? Do they think that the warehouse and its racking and conveyor belt and industrial flooring had a builder? Or do they believe in a Big Bang which bought their home into existence?
Assume that these crickets are quite advanced and often engage in the philosophical question, "Is there life beyond the rafters?" Some crickets believe there is. There must be a creator of this place. How else would the lights come on? How else could music fill the room? But other crickets disagree. Upon study they find the lights come on because of electricity... and music is the result of stereos and speakers. "There is no life beyond this room", they declare.
You see Max's point? Do the toys believe in a maker of the room, or someone who made them for that matter? Or did the Buzz Lightyears simply evolve from a fluffy bear, who in turn evolved from a stress ball? What about Woody? Did he also come from the same stress ball? Or did they both in fact have a designer who made them?
Hmmm. When we have a lower view of ourselves and a larger view of the universe we rapidly discover that a designer is the obvious conclusion!
Just one lesson that I learnt today.... from working amongst toys!
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