Page 12 of When Darkness Calls

“Yes, sir,” he agrees, beginning to unpack his own bag on the table opposite of the professor. Even his voice was just sort of normal. He could easily be a guy that you would never notice as he passed you on the street. No tattoos, no piercings, no strange scars, no accent. He doesn’t even have a unique sense of style. The guy is wearing a plain gray t-shirt and jeans, just like three other guys sitting in the same row as me. But what is he doing up there?

“Come one, come all. Welcome to Art 204, or in laymen’s terms, Photographic Foundations.”

Around the lecture hall students rustle papers, unzip bags, type away at keyboards, but me? I just smile. My fingers tap an unknown rhythm on the wooden desk, my knee bouncing erratically, making my shoe squeak on the newly polished floor at the front of the hall. This is it. My first step toward a career I love. Nothing could ruin this now.

“I am Professor Logan. The young man over here,” he gestures over his shoulder with his thumb, “is Ethan Cochrane.

“He is our class assistant and will be here throughout the semester for added support and peer guidance. If you have any questions regarding brainstorming or tutor-type things, direct them to him, otherwise, my email is also open and so are my office hours.” The older man gives us all a warm smile.

I remember Grayson talking about this class. He would wax poetic for hours on end about how much of a genius Professor Logan is. I spent the better part of my morning during class breaks reading articles about this man’s artistic consulting in major film studios. He is the guy to go to when you have a shot you need to make, but don’t know where to begin. And I have the undoubted privilege to be his pupil.

This is so fucking cool.

As Professor Logan begins the usual beginning of the semester bullshit, I hang onto every word. I know this could be a make or break for my future. A letter of recommendation from this man could have me set for life in any capacity I wish in film. Although the goal had been in the academic side of things, or as I had been thinking lately, maybe even in cinematography one day, his name alone could open so many doors.

“For the duration of the semester, this course will be diving into the basic fundamentals of photography and videography foundations. All the things you need to know about composition, lighting, staging, optics manipulation, and focus for a beginner.”

He leans over the podium at the front of the hall, pressing a button that has a screen dropping from the high ceiling.

“As such, you will be fulfilling a major requirement as part of the university, and for some of you, even for your program. You will be tested on your knowledge and comprehension of the course topics by developing a portfolio.”

The professor’s wide grin and outstretched palm directs our focus to the screen behind him.

I shift in my seat, eyes wide. My mind races with possibilities of what I could do.

“Mr. Cochrane here has been kind enough to allow me to use his very own portfolio as a demonstration. Ethan completed this assignment, the same as every one of you, his sophomore year. For the art credit requirement, he had enrolled in this course, however, he was shocked to discover how much he would love the work we did. By the end of the semester, Mr. Cochrane had changed his major to include Photography along with pre-Law.

“Ethan, if you don’t mind, how about you take over from here, and tell everyone a little bit about each of the pieces you included in your project.” As the professor moves aside, the guy steps into the lecture hall’s lights.

“Thank you, sir. Hi, everyone. My name is Ethan, and I’ll be a part of the class this semester. Just because I’m an assistant doesn’t give me any sort of rank over you all. Please don’t call me sir or anything. You’ll make me feel old,” he murmurs the last sentence giving Professor Logan a side eye. The older man just shakes his head suppressing a chuckle.

Ahh, that’s it then. The extremely “average” pre-law guy is charismatic. Makes sense. Gotta rub elbows in that kind of world. I’d know that from experience with Cade. I don’t think there’s a person who exists that he couldn’t sweet talk into getting his way.

I open my notebook to the front page. The crisp paper brings a whole new sense of joy. There is just something about new school supplies that gives you this hopeful feeling that you have your shit together.

The slideshow in the front of the hall has the bolded title of “Blindspot”.

My pencil scratches across the page. Three underlines beneath the words punctuate the importance.

Have a concise theme.

“So, this is my work,” Ethan says awkwardly gesturing to the screen. “I, personally, wouldn’t be saying it’s example worthy, but here we are.

“For the project, I wanted to focus on things in the city and surrounding towns that people are typically ‘blind’ to. It can be scenic routes, abandoned areas, or even histories many aren’t aware of, but also emotions and parts of humanity we often overlook or try to ignore.”

He continues to talk through each photo with an in-depth explanation of what the truth of the image was. I took ten pages of notes. Despite the guy’s plainness, he really has an eye and his passion is palpable. I can feel it in his words as he explains each photo. I can see it in them too, especially one photo that stood out to me.

A shadow falls upon a grassy knoll. The way it is placed makes it seem as if it isn’t a shadow at all but just a dark figure lying, staring into the cloudless sky. It’s…strangely a beautiful shot. The kind that would make statements in coming-of-age films, or the critically acclaimed dramas that get all of the awards.

However, he doesn’t say much about it. I raise my hand just before he skips to the next slide, and my action takes him off guard. Ethan’s eyes widen a fraction, but the movement is almost too small for me to catch before his boyish smile returns.

“Yes, uh, I’m sorry. What’s your name?” He smiles politely at me.

“Dani Beckett.” I smile in return. I clear my throat a bit, “I apologize for interrupting your presentation, but I was hoping you could talk a bit more on this particular shot. The feel is very cinematic, and I was wondering if you could explain your creative process, or even where you got the inspiration for setting it this way?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, sure, of course. So, for this image I wanted to portray a sense of loss, self-awareness, but also, how fleeting moments are,” he states, turning to the rest of the class. “Isn’t there a sort of beauty found in mortality? Looking to the sky, you truly see how small and unimportant we all seem, but I suppose that’s what makes life so,” he pauses, raking a hand down his jaw in thought, “precious.”

The boy glances back at me, a ponderous expression in his eyes, but he continues on as if he had never been interrupted in the first place.