Luckily, the journalist in me awoke before we even left Pretoria, so I've been eagerly chronicaling our trip thus far. What's struggling to find its feet is my inner videographer. I don't know if I even have one because my footage hasn't been great so far. Since hubby's so busy taking the awesome shots with the fancy-schmancy camera that has all the different lenses, I'm stuck with the digital video camera and no clue how to film good footage.
Every night is turning into a lesson on being a better camera woman. As Kev downloads the footage onto my little laptop, he points out how shakey my shots are and how quickly I pan. We then practice doing everything smoother and slower. I think I'm improving, but it's still not great.
Part of the problem simply is that I don't have impressive upper-body strength. When a gust of wind blows too strongly, my hand moves unexpectedly. When my arm gets tired, it begins to shake. I'm starting to worry, actually, that I'm going to have one abnormally large bicep by the time we get back at the end of the month. Won't that be pretty and feminine? Sometimes, I even miss shots entirely because I don't push the record button hard enough. Apparently even my fingers are too weak for this job.
On driving days, like today, most of the footage I take is of passing scenery. Over the sound of ACDC, I thought Kev just asked me to film the road, so I started removing the battery from the car charger. Turns out he actually joking that we should film some roadkill, as we passed another unfortunate rabbit, and he was very suprised that I was seriously going to do it. Ugh. Maybe not. We'll leave that bunny for a jackal.
They do say marriage is all about communication...
