Fa la la la

I got a black posterboard. Well, it's more of a very dark gray. I couldn't find absolute black. It works though.

The balls are pretty.

Why spoons?
I wanted something shiny and contemporary.

If it weren't for the very visible reflection of the mini-studio running down the middle of the bottle, I might rate this ad-worthy.

Someone asked me this recently: "For every mini-studio picture you post [in this blog], how many do you actually take?"

Answer: About 10-20, depending on my mood. Part of the reason I take so many is because I'm still learning the finer points of basic photography. When I feel more comfortable in figuring out the light meter, iso, f-stop, etc etc, I imagine that number will drop. At least, until I add a new element(s) to master (such as shooting with reflectors or real diffusers).

And the other part is because I'm still figuring out my style.

Read more...

Nu-cu-lar Food

(yes, that's a jab at dear ol' President Bush)



Overexposed pictures seem to be the only way I can get nearly-white background with my current setup. Must tweak with my design to see if I can't improve it this weekend.

Read more...

Storytime: Humongous Bird Shit

Another college story. Thanks to KR for reminding me. This story is best told when both KR and I are present because we help each others fill in the gaps in these stories. I'll do my best here in the blog, however.

This took place during the summer I stayed with KR and three other women in the tiny two-bedroom townhouse on the campus. Five women total living in a dump. Fun times.

KR and I were headed out one late morning to, I think, get taco bell for lunch -- we were dirt broke, and they had cheap eats. We walked from our townhouse toward the parking lot, chatting along, when I spotted something weird on my car. At the time, I had an old, ugly Audi that I loved, and it was normally a pretty shade of faded gray-blue.

Here's a crude drawing to illustrate it.

I ran to my car, and much to my horror, there was white stuff on the poor car. WTF? A whiff determined that it was indeed bird shit. I don't think it's easy to explain in text (or verbally) without somehow illustrating just how big this shit was. In person, this is accompanied by a fishing-story style gesture..."It was this big!" So, I'll help you.

Here's a crude drawing to illustrate it.

Some mysterious bird indeed shit on my car...and it was so enormous that it splattered all over the hood and the windshield. KR normally chimes in here; she usually says something like, "My jeep just happened to be parked next to her car that day. I ran to it to see if the bird shit splattered onto it!" accompanied by hysterical giggles. At first, we thought maybe a horde of birds had targeted the cars in the area, but all the nearby cars were fine, including KR's.

I was so pissed that my first instinct was to wash the shit off the car. Which I did. It had pretty much dried up, but the splatter suggested...that the bird had runs? I don't know.

I wish I hadn't been so impulsive to wash the car off, and took a picture first. Years later, KR and I still speculate on the source of this mysterious, humongous shit. Was it a really big bird? Did the said bird have runs? What kind of bird could create this much shit in one go??

I don't think Nancy Drew would want to solve this one.

Read more...

A Wolf Howls...

Yeah, the photo is totally blown (overexposed) but I like it. Out of all the photos I shot, this and one other that was very similar were the only ones that clearly showed off the grains in the wood. And I like "mistake" photos...pictures that are compelling even though they're not the desired shot, if that makes sense. Kinda like how Mona Lisa isn't a great painting (hey, even the painter himself said so), but something about the woman's expression is just fascinating.

Read more...

Ya'all Should Be Worried

Harry Potter Personality Quiz by Pirate Monkeys Inc.


The description fits me pretty well.

Read more...

Survival of the Fittest

I'm reading a book, "Dies the Fire" by S.M. Stirling. It's not the best book I've read - certainly doesn't have the makings of a classic. However, the concept of this story is very interesting.

It's about how a few different groups survive after some kind of weirdness (I'm not done with the book, and haven't found out what exactly) knocks out all power in the region/country/world (still unknown). It even affected nonelectrical power sources...guns no longer work. Batteries no longer work. No combustion - no cars. And so on. It's sort of Mad Max, multiplied.

The author explores what it'd take to survive, what would happen to billions of people. While I think he glossed over the gruesomeness that would result (he seems to prefer to focus on the inherent good nature in people), I think he captured the big picture pretty well.

So. I started wondering about whether I'd be able to survive. What it'd take. Do I have the smarts, the willpower? Sadly, the unfortunate truth is, probably not. Being deaf puts me at an enormous disadvantage, and I'd have to rely on other people to survive. And it'd be very difficult for me to put trust, to put my life in hands of other people in that kind of environment.

And adding to that, I have no survival skills to speak of. I don't hunt, I don't shoot (archery), I don't know how to skin animals, I don't know how to farm, or how to fight in hand-to-hand combat. About the only thing I do know is how to ride -- and that knowledge is a distant memory. I haven't ridden since I was 12 or 13. I don't know diddly squat.

Knock on wood! Let's hope this never happens.

Read more...

Let It Snow - Part 2 (Long)

Snow! Oh boy!

What's he doing? Look closely.

I'll help. Here's a closeup.Posing

INTERMISSION

Loves sticks, he does.

INTERMISSION

Found a new, better stick

INTERMISSION

Leggo my stick!

Read more...

Let It Snow, Let It Snow

Very bad snaps of the snow from my balcony. It's the first snow of the season in DC.

Read more...

Mini Studio and Pictures

It seems that my camera's white balance might be off or something. Or maybe it's the new lens. Or the posterboard isn't as white as my eyes think it is. I don't know. I'll need to do more tests.

Anyway, through some trial and error (and getting pissed off at the Home Depot wood guy in the process and changing my plans as result), I put together a sort of a mini-studio using foam posterboards, white duct tape, and leftover muslin wrapped over a coathanger for a light diffuser. Here are some test shots.

A very bad shot of the "mini studio"

The light diffuser

A picture of dried chili peppers that I grew.

Fa la la la

On bright side...I'm glad I did this. I think that after I get an idea of what I need, I'll be able to build a better box next time. I know there are tons of resources out there, but I'd rather spend 10 bucks and a couple hours to build something that I don't mind wrecking (and believe me, I'm getting ideas) than spend 50-100 bucks for something I'd be afraid to ruin. Not to mention, I can think of better ways to spend 50 bucks.

Like this...

Read more...

A Snippet of Writings

I have nothing to say...

So here's an old story I wrote a couple years ago. It's a Short Short Short Story - Less than 500 words.

"That brat" was a five-year-old little boy so full of mischief, temper, and trouble that he seemed to bring chaos everywhere he trotted. Unearthly-loud wails and howls for sweet candies and shiny toys escaped his small pair of lungs from dawn until dusk. Left to his own devices, he played pranks, sure to humiliate even the most cautious, stoic adult. The hateful refrain was oft heard in the aftermath of his presence, "Brat!" "That brat!" "Awful brat!" Even his poor haggard mother snarled, "Brat!" whenever her son caused havoc.

Somewhere in his precious heart resided a yearning for a kind word and love. At the end of the day, he crawled into his mother's lap and thrust a small bouquet of ragged daisies into her face. Her heart softening, she hugged him, kissed him, and told him, "Brat you may be, but you are my brat." Meanwhile, in the distance, someone can be heard uttering, "That brat!" upon discovering a ravaged garden.

Read more...