Happen More Often
I went by the pet shop this morning (kitty litter) and three people on the staff asked me about the digital camera. I shot the picture up top as part of a brief demonstration. Running an 8x10 print should be a matter of maybe thirty minutes: download the image from the camera to the computer, open the image in PhotoShop, make adjustments and print. "Make adjustments" was the rub. The skin tones don't seem right, too much yellow and perhaps green. I've gone through many adjustments taking a great many more than thirty minutes and I still don't have it right. But it's better.
An opportunity to learn, young man.
Those were my thoughts. Actually, since I was shooting indoors at ISO 1000, I can't really complain about the color, but I've been thinking it would be nice to spend, say, three or four months here at the computer learning PhotoShop. Distracting thoughts when you still need to pay the rent. Art and life, here in Oakland.
A good day, otherwise. They're painting the building at the moment. The interior is done and today, as I was fiddling with the photograph on the computer, I could look over and watch the painter assigned to my balcony doing his work. You worry about that. What's he got in there anyway, this guy? Maybe my painter has a friend in an entirely different business who'd pay a fee to know about the cameras. Then again, that's what the insurance and the heavily armed apartment manager who lives across the hall is about.
And the attack dogs belonging to the chief of police who just happens to live next door? You're blathering.
Seems to happen more often.