It’s my desperate belief understanding that you all enjoy my photographs. Because who doesn’t like a rectangle simply stuffed with pixels? I tell you, my rectangles got so many pixels, they’re almost bulging out at the sides. My pictures are the fat man of… pictures.
No copying my metaphors, you hear? Also, hands off my synecdoches. Or should I say fingertips? Which reminds me:
The next time some methed-out radio DJ hectors you to phone up the station and recite “the phrase the pays,” call in and sing that song. The DJ will be all like “Argh you again” but he won’t hang up, because “[A]ny action that directly or indirectly effects a cessation of any performance of Fingertips is considered high treason and is punishable by fines of $5 and/or death.” The law is only applicable to residents of the Republic of Cool Ranch Doritos. But that’s where you live.
I did some more freelensing over coffee at Tangerine Food Bar, which produced some good results with the autumn-themed centerpieces.
Freelensing, as you may recall from yesterdays’ blog entry, is the practice of removing the lens from the camera and shooting with the lens held just off the mount. The result is shallow depth of field, a dramatically reduced focal distance (from one foot to a couple of inches) and lots of weird blur and light leaks. For example, the eye of Schmutzie:
Later that evening the spirit of creative photography seized ahold of me like a Wendigo and gnawed at my soul. So I stuck a blender jar on the end of my lens and went around taking photos of things until something interesting happened.
And that’s yesterday. No daring street photography, no stray image that told a story. But not every day has to produce something like that. Some days you’re lucky to squeeze in one beautiful thing.