When I was young fashion photographer I used to enjoy it a lot – mostly, but greatly dependent on, client – and also enjoyed portraits, for which I would us longer lenses. The two disciplines were kept apart, in my mind, as being totally different animals.
The funny thing about doing a longish stint of heads, for a hairdresser, for example, was that I realised that one could actually become a little bit body-blind, especially if not working with someone one knew quite well. As a result, the temptation was to shoot the two things rather apart, timewise, even on the same assignment, and not because of lens changes, just for the comfort of the inside of one's head. That was how it was most of my working life.
Recently, I have been attracted very much to the idea of doing portraits again, but can't find anyone that I want to shoot who wants to be shot, if you see what I mean. So nothing happens. Which of course, saves a lot of bother, one way or the other.
Anyway, it occurred to me the other day that I had been labouring under a delusion and confusion of words: full length, heads, portraits, when it comes down to it, it's all exactly the same thing: it's actually all a portrait of me, the shooter.
And it doesn't stop at people. Pretty much everything at which I point a camera ends up being part of me, felt inside by me, accepted or rejected by myself.
I think it's safe to extrapolate here: everything any of us does is a bloody great selfie, a life-long self-portrait.
Rob C