The media are not toys… they can be entrusted only to new artists, because they are art forms.
(McLuhan, 1954)
Jun 1, 2025
I imagined talking to Will, the minister, and suggesting the idea—imagining him getting excited about it.
I saw myself taking on the project and spending time just being present with people at these gatherings, doing nothing, saying nothing, simply being there long enough for them to forget I was there. Then, gradually, I would begin photographing them. I saw myself standing in the nave or the chancel while Will led the service, taking photos of him and the event up close, even while feeling the congregation’s eyes on me. I wondered whether I could still fulfill my duties as a custodian while working on the project. Should I pause my custodial work during that time? Should I ask other caretakers to cover for me? How much should I charge for this project? Should the payment be handled separately, like a contract, or should it be included in my regular staff wage? It also occurred to me that photographing the caretakers might be meaningful—after all, they should be some of the main characters in the story.
My thoughts kept running until I forgot what I was doing. I felt excited—and nervous.
What would people at church think if they realized I’m not just a caretaker, but a fairly professional photographer? Would they start seeing me as more intellectual, more refined? Would some be annoyed because I no longer fit the role they assumed I had—someone to overlook, or someone they can pretend to be polite to and respectful of just to make themselves feel classy?
Now I’m writing this after the service has ended, and I’ve just realized that it was all in my head. It will likely never happen—either because Will or others wouldn’t be on board, or because I’m not brave enough to suggest it.