I really hope you guys are gonna check out the tale, otherwise you won't really "get" the photo. I tried photographing me as the little son of the woman, and used my expression to show a begging and desperate look. The flowers seemed to be a harsh prop because I didn't prepare (I came with the idea on saturday-night, talk about timing!) but it came out just the way I wanted :D
Here's the story:
There was once a mother who had a little boy of seven years old, who was so handsome and lovable that no one could look at him without liking him, and she herself worshipped him above everything in the world. Now it so happened that he suddenly became ill, and God took him to himself, and for this the mother could not be comforted and wept both day and night. But soon afterwards, when the child had been buried, it appeared by night in the places where it had sat and played during its life, and if the mother wept, it wept also, and when morning came it disappeared. But as the mother would not stop crying, it came one night, in the little white shroud in which it had been laid in its coffin, and with its wreath of flowers round its head, and stood on the bed at her feet, and said, "Oh, mother, do stop crying, or I shall never fall asleep in my coffin, for my shroud will not dry because of all your tears, which fall upon it." The mother was afraid when she heard that, and wept no more. The next night the child came again, and held a little light in its hand, and said, "Look, mother, my shroud is nearly dry, and I can rest in my grave." Then the mother gave her sorrow into God's keeping, and bore it quietly and patiently, and the child came no more, but slept in its little bed beneath the earth.
Adjustments: LOTS! Like adding a filter for an aged look (noise and color-wise), cloning, dodging & burning, and color-changes manual. The pink / orange color cast is intentional.
[Oct. 12th, 2008 06:54:00 PM]
Funny thing, the commenters who read the story assume I've imaged the mother, but it's really the son I'm showing here! Hence the flowers, because the story says: "and with its wreath of flowers round its head" I don't blame the voters, not at all, but I think it's kinda funny how people interpret the photo and the story!
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My friend made a movie of this story called "The Boy and the Grave." Unfortunately, I don't think it's available anywhere. It was a college project. Interestingly, it was a movie made entirely from photographs.
I hadn't read the story, but felt this was an intriguing photo on its own. Btw, not knowing the tale, I didn't get that the subject was meant to be a boy. Still, I think this qualifies for "most underrated" entry!
This is so haunting my stomach actually flipped, I wasn't gonna comment til tomorrow but I have to say, this really made an impact. Maybe it's the open stare, or the fact she's so pale that she appears dead, even though she's clearly alive by those eyes. Wow. Great job.
Oh, man, I just went and read that story and it's heartbreaking :-( The lack of eye makeup works well here to suggest someone who's cried it all off, and now the eyes are dry, but still sad. Don't know about the flowers but overall an emotive image which suits the story.
Intense, emotional look. Now knowing "The Shroud" I don't know how it pertains to the story and Wiki isn't helping me. Ah, found the story. Very short and touching, and this fits it perfectly. Bumping up.
There was once a mother who had a little boy of seven years old, who was so handsome and lovable that no one could look at him without liking him, and she herself worshipped him above everything in the world. Now it so happened that he suddenly became ill, and God took him to himself, and for this the mother could not be comforted and wept both day and night. But soon afterwards, when the child had been buried, it appeared by night in the places where it had sat and played during its life, and if the mother wept, it wept also, and when morning came it disappeared. But as the mother would not stop crying, it came one night, in the little white shroud in which it had been laid in its coffin, and with its wreath of flowers round its head, and stood on the bed at her feet, and said, "Oh, mother, do stop crying, or I shall never fall asleep in my coffin, for my shroud will not dry because of all your tears, which fall upon it." The mother was afraid when she heard that, and wept no more. The next night the child came again, and held a little light in its hand, and said, "Look, mother, my shroud is nearly dry, and I can rest in my grave." Then the mother gave her sorrow into God's keeping, and bore it quietly and patiently, and the child came no more, but slept in its little bed beneath the earth.
--The End--
This is an amazing photo for the story, I am not going to say this could have or this maybe, because the expression the texture have said it all.
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