Beyond The Portrait
  • Reads 24
  • Votes 0
  • Parts 6
  • Time 21m
  • Reads 24
  • Votes 0
  • Parts 6
  • Time 21m
Ongoing, First published Dec 23, 2024
"Life, like photography, is the art of seeing not what is, but what could be."

They say a photograph captures a moment in time, freezes it forever in perfect stillness. But what they don't tell you is that sometimes, in that frozen fraction of a second, everything changes.
 
Sometimes, looking through a lens, you see something you weren't ready to see. Sometimes, you see yourself

For Helena Mello, photography had always been about control. Perfect composition. Precise lighting. Every element in its place, just as she'd learned in the sun-drenched studios of São Paulo where she first picked up a camera. The carefully curated life she'd built in Los Angeles - successful commercial photographer, comfortable relationship, pristine portfolio - was a testament to that control. Each shot, each client, each day followed a script she'd written herself.
Until it didn't.

Until a last-minute cancellation brought Zaniyah Di Palma into her studio. Fresh from Naples with an accent like warm honey and eyes that challenged every frame they entered, Zaniyah wasn't just a model - she was a force of nature. She didn't just pose for the camera; she danced with it, defied it, made love to it. She took Helena's perfectly composed world and tilted it just enough to let the light in differently.

This is a story about seeing and being seen. About the spaces between perfect moments, where real life happens. About two women from different worlds, speaking different languages, finding a common vocabulary in light and shadow. About how sometimes the most beautiful portraits are the ones that catch us off guard, when we're not posing, when we're simply being.
And maybe, most of all, it's about how love, like the perfect photograph, isn't about control at all.

It's about surrender.
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Being in love with your best friend isn't the ideal life situation but for Zora, it's her only life situation. Secretly harboring her feelings for her best friend, Sierra, Zora pours her emotions into her journal in the form of poetry. After years of keeping her attraction for her friend at bay and trying to deny her feelings by forcing herself to love a boy who unconditionally loves her, Zora's favorite emotional outlet becomes the cause of her life falling apart as the truth finally comes out. ***** It was happening again. It was dark, sunset, I waited for her to be done with volleyball practice 'because she was my ride'. Somehow we wandered from the gym to the football field and we were sitting at the very top of the bleachers staring at each other. Her dark hair mirrored the direction of the wind, the setting sun being replaced by the brightness of her smile. We were sitting so close I could feel her warmth. It was an unusual situation. Friends don't do this. We held eye contact for a long time before I couldn't take it anymore and just closed my eyes. It wasn't real, she was just my friend. Then, I felt her tuck a strand of my curly hair behind my ear. That with the chill of the night sent shivers down my spine and a swarm of butterflies attacked my stomach. I reopened my eyes. If she didn't want me, why did she look at me that way? I held her hand and I held it for so long because I didn't know if we'd have another moment like this. We talk and laugh and she tells me I'm pretty and I ask her if she'd just noticed that and we laugh again. I realize the feelings I felt in that moment were not just the intense feelings of attraction that I felt every time I was with her. Warmth flooded to my face and if it wasn't for my dark complexion, my blush would be noticeable. I look into her dark-colored eyes and I come to the conclusion that I'm royally fucked and I'm probably also in love.