Having Gone Well
Tuesday. Boo! I know, why so serious? It's the eyebrows. Eyebrows that need combing make you crazy and childishly serious when you're sitting for a portrait. It's written in the genes. Sounds good, anyway.
Rained all last night and now into the morning. I have a haircut appointment at ten and I'm not looking forward to taking a bus in the rain to attend. Still, it gets me out of the house and I definitely need a trim. Life in the fast lane, methinks, sitting here needing a trim.
Are we not amused?
We are feeling in pretty good shape. The rain is just rain, it comes, it goes, and we are in a drought that has people on edge and wondering if the world really is changing as quickly as it seems. I go on about feeling better, and I do feel better, so we'll let that be our guide.
I still haven't been paying attention to detail in my portrait project. I have five small strobes set up on tripods (four SB-800's and an SB-900 for those who care about such things), two of them, for example, lighting the background. The books say increase the output by a stop for units that light the background or you won't (in this case) get a good bright “white” and I can see from my results that's true. So the idea is to play with settings like these and see what I can learn and do. I notice I'm getting five highlights in my eyes, for example, from the five lights. How to fix that other than in Photoshop? Actually, the five highlights are in the right eye facing the camera, a single highlight in the left. What's that about? Do you see why I avoid thinking about these things? Makes my little back lighted head hurt.
Later. The rain stopped just as I was leaving for the bus to head downtown for my haircut, the rain pretty much holding until I returned to the apartment. A haircut every four weeks. I have, when I was younger, worn it longer. A whole lot longer, but I've not had any motivation to let it grow now that I've retired. Same with facial hair. I had a mustache during most of the seventies, at one point with hair down to my shoulders. Don't like any of the pictures that survive from that period. Do you think about these things more or less as you get older? I suspect no less, poor soul.
Later still. A walk way down the way and back well over the thirty minute recommendation, although I'm pretty sure the thirty minute recommendation envisions a somewhat faster pace. Still, a good walk, the t-shirt a bit sticky as I sit, the afternoon closing in on evening, the day having gone well. No complaints.