Archer's uncle answered my call for a surplus digital camera for his birthday, and ever since Archer has lived for the days he is allowed to take pictures with his Olympus D-380 (2 megapixels) -- a "real camera," he likes to point out, as opposed to the Viewmaster that we encourage Cady Gray to pretend is her camera. Today he finally filled up the memory card and it was time to download.
The first order of business was deleting the 60+ shots that look like this:
Archer's favorite subject is his own feet, followed closely by anything about 24 inches off the floor. Not out of any artistic choice, I assume, but because he likes to hold the camera tilted down so he can look at the screen. But occasionally we cajoled him into lifting the axis somewhere close to vertical, and this is the result:
I must admit that I had visions of a Rain Man-like photographic eye, something that would reveal what was going on in his head, external evidence of the world that exists in his private perceptions. Unless that world is dominated by his feet and the torsos of those around him, I didn't get my wish. But it's early yet. It probably took Dustin Hoffman 40 years to learn how to absentmindedly snap perfectly composed random images.