Photo-Off Challenge: Backlight

My challenge for this week was backlighting. I had wanted to experiment with sun flares (I learned how to make them either round and blobby or spikey and star shaped, depending on the aperture) but the sun decided not to come out this week. Grrrrr. So instead I played around inside with diffused window light and household lamps.

I tried a few different subjects (mostly household knickknacks), and settled on this as my favorite. The first shot is Mary on plain white poster board (with a custom white balance set for a nice soft, soothing color). The light is behind her and to the side.... I wasn't sure if that counted as backlight, though, so for the second shot I stuck the lamp directly behind her with a piece of opaque plastic in between.


Nikon D70 - 85mm prime lens; 1/1000 at f/1.8; ISO 200


Nikon D70 - 85mm prime lens; 1/1000 at f/1.8; ISO 200

Isn't she lovely? Clearly I have holy envy, lol.

Mary, your challenge for next week -- which, if you got the same weather we did in the last few days, should give you ample subject matter -- is FROZEN. Have fun! :-)


~RCH~

Talking points

I recently came across a list I made of words that Uno could say at 15-1/2 months (the same age Tres is now). For comparison, here is Tres's list, with non-standard but consistent pronunciations in parentheses:

Mama
Dada
baby
hi
bye
night-night
all done (ahduh)
go go team (gogotee!)
diaper (biper)
more
book (buh)

Not too shabby for 15mo, right? Yeeeaaah. Now let's look at Uno's list, as recorded on April 25, 2004:

ADJECTIVES
Bad
Cold (Coe)
Cute (Cue)
Gross (Gwoe)
Hot
Owie (Awwie)
Yucky

NOUNS
Baby (Babah)
Back
Ball (Baa)
Bathroom (Bawoo)
Blanket (Bakie)
Book
Breakfast (Bafa)
Bunny (Buhyah; Bay)
Cat (Mow)
Cheese
Clothes (Coe)
Cracker (Caca)
Cup
Diaper
Dog (Oof-oof)
Duck (Guk; Cack-Cack)
Ear (Aw, pointing to ear)
Eye (Aw, pointing to eye)
Hair (Haa)
Hat (Hot)
Head (Heh)
Hippo (Happo)
Juice
Magazine (Maga)
Milk
Moon (Moo)
Night (Ny)
Nose (No)
Pants (Pass)
Pictures (Picka)
Plate (Pay)
Poop
Prayer (Peh)
Shoe
Shirt (Sh*t)
Sock (Cock)
Spoon (Poo)
Toes (Toessytoe -- for "tootsie toes," my word)
Window (Endo)

PROPER NAMES
Billy (Bee)
Bobby (Baa)
Camilla (Milka)
Dada
Eliza (Paa)
Esther (Essa)
Mama
Mary (Meh; Mehmeh)
Meghan (Maga)
Mimi
Paul (Paa)

VERBS
Don't (Doe)
Go
Help (Hap)
Open (Opa)
Pray (Pay)
Stop it (Topit)
Talk
Walk

PHRASES / MISC
Fell down (Fa dow)
Here you go (A-go!)
Help you (Hapoo -- really she means "help me" when she says this)
Hi, you!
No
Out


Poor Dos doesn't even have a list, so I have no idea how her verbal abilities compare (though she has a big vocabulary for her age now). Looking this over, I'm simultaneously amazed at what I figured at the time was Uno's normal language development and disappointed that Tres isn't getting the same attention (or something) to develop her skills. I don't worry that she's behind or anything -- but SHEESH. What a contrast.

My mom says that subsequent babies often speak later or less than their older siblings because they have plenty of people to do the talking for them -- but her own family doesn't bear that out: I was a #3 and the most verbally precocious of the bunch; #8, the baby, came in a close second; we both spoke in elaborate and clearly enunciated sentences before our second birthdays.

I'm sure Tres will catch up. With (humble) me for a mom and such a Chatty Cathy for a dad, how could she not? ;-) It's just crazy to see how different the girls are. (Or at least these two, since I don't recall how well Dos talked at this age.)


~RCH~

The inaugural poem

I really enjoyed Elizabeth Alexander's poem, though not so much her delivery; her choppy recitation reminded me of Mike Meyers in So I Married An Axe Murderer ("Wo-man / Woe man ... she stole my heart and my cat!"). I prefer a more natural cadence -- especially when you have such an opportunity to bring non-fans into the poetry loving fold -- but hey, it's her baby, she can read it any way she likes.

Honestly, though, this is my kind of poem: Accessible, simple, well crafted. The imagery celebrates and elevates the ordinary. Poetry does not have to be esoteric or self-important; I like my T.S. Eliot as much as anyone, but sometimes it's better to "say it plain," as Alexander has.

I'd love to hear your thoughts on the poem. I hope I don't violate any copyrights or step on any toes in reprinting it (copied from MSNBC.com) for you here. Enjoy:

Praise Song for the Day
A Poem for Barack Obama's Presidential Inauguration

Each day we go about our business,
walking past each other, catching each other’s
eyes or not, about to speak or speaking.

All about us is noise. All about us is
noise and bramble, thorn and din, each
one of our ancestors on our tongues.

Someone is stitching up a hem, darning
a hole in a uniform, patching a tire,
repairing the things in need of repair.

Someone is trying to make music somewhere,
with a pair of wooden spoons on an oil drum,
with cello, boom box, harmonica, voice.

A woman and her son wait for the bus.
A farmer considers the changing sky.
A teacher says, Take out your pencils. Begin.

We encounter each other in words, words
spiny or smooth, whispered or declaimed,
words to consider, reconsider.

We cross dirt roads and highways that mark
the will of some one and then others, who said
I need to see what’s on the other side.

I know there’s something better down the road.
We need to find a place where we are safe.
We walk into that which we cannot yet see.

Say it plain: that many have died for this day.
Sing the names of the dead who brought us here,
who laid the train tracks, raised the bridges,

picked the cotton and the lettuce, built
brick by brick the glittering edifices
they would then keep clean and work inside of.

Praise song for struggle, praise song for the day.
Praise song for every hand-lettered sign,
the figuring-it-out at kitchen tables.

Some live by love thy neighbor as thyself,
others by first do no harm or take no more
than you need. What if the mightiest word is love?

Love beyond marital, filial, national,
love that casts a widening pool of light,
love with no need to pre-empt grievance.

In today’s sharp sparkle, this winter air,
any thing can be made, any sentence begun.
On the brink, on the brim, on the cusp,

praise song for walking forward in that light.

Copyright © 2009 by Elizabeth Alexander. All rights reserved.


~RCH~

Hey Jude!

(For those of you who aren't as up on your Catholic saints as I am, Jude is the patron of lost objects and lost causes.)

We found Uno's camera! Hooray! I found it beneath a pile of Christmas crap DH promised to put away days ago. She won't admit to having taken it in the first place, but I suspect Dos (particularly after she asked if she could claim the promised $1 reward for knowing it was there).

Anyway, for your enjoyment, here are a few of Uno's Photo-Off Challenge pictures. Keep in mind that her camera is technically a toy, not a fine piece of optical equipment, so the quality and resolution aren't great.







Woooo! :-)


~RCH~

Photo-Off: Food

This week's Photo-Off challenge was food. I wanted to shoot something warm and steamy -- tomato soup, or maybe hot chocolate -- but apparently steam is this whole big thing and is not (as I now know) as easy to capture as you'd think. My warm and cozy bowl o' soup photos turned out incredibly dull, and the steam didn't even bother to show up on film (or, um, in pixels).

I tried grapes next. After my soup failed so spectacularly, I spent some time studying up on the art of food photography. One thing I learned is that light kept low and behind the subject will produce more interesting texture in the final product. With that in mind, I stuck some grapes on top of Romaine lettuce leaves and put them on a chair in front of the open front door.

I should have remembered to turn off a nearby lamp; you can see the bulb's orange reflection in the grapes. If I allowed myself any post-processing in these challenges, I'd simply clone those out. I should probably also have spritzed the grapes with water throughout the shoot, but my spray bottle was in the room where Tres was napping and I didn't want to risk waking her. Oh well. Small details.


Nikon D70 - 85mm prime lens; 1/250 at f/2.2; ISO 200

So what's the verdict? Anybody hungry for grapes? Or a salad? ;-)

Uno turned six yesterday and received, among other things, a Fisher Price digital camera. She says she wants in on these Photo-Offs, too, so she's been taking food pictures all day. I'll post her results later!

Mary, your challenge for next week is to interpret [LDS scripture] D&C 93:36, specifically the phrase "The glory of God is intelligence." Drop by a school or library, photograph a stack of books or someone with really thick glasses (lol), or even submit a totally random photo for which you have learned a new technique. Whatever! Education, knowledge, intelligence, learning. It's all good. :-)

(Are you proud of me for remembering to issue your challenge this time, lol?)


~RCH~

Quote of the day

UNO: How did you know I did that?

RCH: Because of the eyes in the back of my head. [I've been teasing her all week; she hates it.]

UNO: Don't say that! You didn't get made that way and you're not an owl!

RCH: Oh, fine. It's just an expression. But it's a fun expression so I'm going to keep saying it!

UNO: No, you can't lie; it's not nice to God! Plus I have weapons. [She brandishes her fingers as guns]


~RCH~

Breakdown

My youngest sister has the spiritual gift of a tender heart; her compassion and sensitivity tend to leak out of her eyes. I wouldn't say that's among my gifts (I have the gift of ... melodrama? Mopiness?). Thanks to my family of origin, I probably do cry more than the average Jane -- but only after plenty of build-up and almost never in public.

Today was the exception that tests the rule.

Uno and Dos asked me about J, the 14yo from my Sunday School class who passed away last fall, over breakfast. Uno wanted to know how he got to the graveyard if he was dead -- "because, you know, dead people can't walk." I explained caskets and hearses. Dos wanted to know (again; we've talked about this before) how he died, so I explained that asthma made him unable to breathe. Uno demonstrated by exhaling, then holding her breath. Dos got scared. "Uno, I don't want you to die!" I explained that Uno would be fine because she was only pretending; her lungs work just perfectly.

"Why did God make germs and spiders and asthma?" Uno asked. She asks things like that a lot lately. I know the grown-up answers: We live in a fallen, imperfect world; suffering refines us in the same way that rough polishing makes gems sparkle; bla bla bla. I don't know how to make sense of it to a 5yo, though. I should, but I don't.

Enough time has passed that I don't mind talking about J anymore; I don't get emotional. The girls ask me all sorts of questions about him, running the gamut from ridiculous to profound to profoundly insensitive in any other context (ah, kids!) and I do my best to give honest but concise answers. Not a problem. Mostly.

Anyway, after our enlightening breakfast I went Visiting Teaching (a program of our church's women's auxiliary wherein we, um, visit and also teach a brief spiritual message to other women from the church). The husband of one woman we visit had been J's scoutmaster for years, and their families are pretty close.

Our conversation meandered from all the snow, to how our Christmases went, to how J's family (and his mom in particular) is handling the holiday without him. "I don't know," she said. "We've all been sick for weeks around here so we've been stuck at home; I haven't really had a chance to talk to her." She sighed. "I can't imagine losing a child so close to the holidays, though. You have no chance for that initial grief to settle over you before you're hit with the next wallop...."

I tried to fight the tears, but the more I struggled to suppress them the faster they fell, and moments later I was a completely unexpected blubbering, sniffling mess. I tried to explain that I didn't usually react that way, that perhaps the girls' questions this morning (and my inadequacy to answer the hard ones) had got me down.... I know nobody thought any less of me for my mini breakdown, but I don't like doing it.

I feel a little bit guilty that his loss still makes me sad -- like who am I to burst into tears at the mention of his name? His family has definitely earned their grief; this woman and her husband, who have been close with his family for years, have earned theirs; I taught him Sunday School for 40 minutes once a week for a year and a half, that's it. What have I lost? What right do I have? I'm sure nobody else thinks about it that way; I'm sure his parents would be honored to know that I thought of their son so highly and still miss him. But I feel the guilt anyway.

I guess that's my gift of melodrama.


~RCH~

No looking back

I'm totally over nostalgia. I tried writing a couple year-in-review posts in the last week -- or hey, even a Christmas-&-New-Year's-Day-in-review post -- but eh. I just don't feel like it. We had fabulous holidays, but having lived through them once I'm not in the mood to rehash.

Well, except for one thing: Tres and I were up in the wee hours of Christmas morning and stumbled upon the stash of unwrapped gifts that Santa had left under the tree. Tres looked at the dolls, books and a See-N-Say intended for her and gasped. She babbled an excited question, pointed at the pile, then pointed at herself as if to say, "Oh my goodness, those are for me, right? I get to have that? Can I have it now?" I'm sure she remembers nothing of her first Christmas (she would have been not quite three months old) and I don't know how much she understood of her sisters' anticipation (she still doesn't speak English, though I think she understands quite a lot). But she clearly knew that she had hit the jackpot, and that come the morning light (or sooner if I'd let her!) those toys would be hers, all hers.

Cutest thing EVER. Hands down.

And that concludes our look back at 2008.

2009 is shaping up nicely so far: The scale -- which I suspect Tres somehow reset to the tune of about -8 lbs (she likes to crawl all over it and press the buttons) -- says I've lost 8 lbs. On the other hand, Dos let me know yesterday as I was getting dressed why my underpants are so big: It's because my bum is big. Oh! Mystery solved; thanks kid. ;-)

I want to continue to improve my photography this year -- or at least my post processing; I wonder sometimes if that's more my calling (I really enjoy our collaborations, sis!). Anyway, inspired by various photo blogs and forums I've been stalking, I decided to take some sister pics of my girls. Uno flat out refused to participate; Tres had no choice but to participate, but she didn't have to focus or like it; Dos wanted in only if I promised not to make her hair look nice (though I did comb it off her face). Below are two of my favorite shots from the session -- which should tell you something about the way the whole thing went, lol.

I couldn't get Tres to look at me for all the whooping and whistling in the world.


They were sitting on the edge of my bed to get the natural light from my window. Tres moved to climb down, so I told Dos to grab her and then ... *click!* We capture this moment of sisterly irritation.


*Sigh!*

They ought to be used to me and my camera by now. I don't know why they don't just give in and let me take nice pictures of them. :-p

Oh well.

Uno turns six next week (going on 16, wishing she were 26). I told her she could have a friend party; she poured over the Oriental Trading Co. catalog for days before deciding upon her theme: Chinese New Year. She picked that one because (a) dragons are cool for boys and girls and (b) it comes with a piñata (how's that for Chinese?). I worked on the invitation last night and came up with this:



She's allowed to invite six friends. We'll finalize the guest list tonight and hand deliver the invitations tomorrow. Which means, I guess, that we'll have to have this party, lol. Wheeeeeee! (At least I planned this one better than I did last year's Spring Time party! I made sure that DH would be home and available to help this time.)

So yeah. Things are in motion. Yay 2009. No looking back now. :-)


~RCH~