Friday, January 18, 2013

External Light Sources

So this project is due tuesday for studio lighting. It's the intro project that has once again not failed in freaking me out. I have never taken a full on digital course, and so suddenly having to use my digital camera for school is very scary! White balance, spot metering, ISO, Aperture, camera speed. . . sniff and then more? I loose it so quickly and forget what I am supposed to be looking for when doing projects like these.

These photos were taken by using a bright LED spotlight with a  plasic bag taped over the bulbs to diffuse the intensity and to not create that flashlight look.

Besides cropping, we are not allowed to tamper with the pictures.

The model is a comrade in arms, as is the holder of the lights. Thanks Nick and Crystal!

A friend sent me a link to an artist by the name of Matthew Albanese showing his incredible creations called "Strange Worlds".  his short little interview he said:

“I have been very discouraged many times building these. It can be very frustrating,” Matthew says. “But I found that making mistakes was the best thing for the work because I was able to discover methods and strategies to build future landscapes.”

I think that this is the quote of the week for me. :) Not that it really applies to what I took tonight, but it applies to the fact that most of the time I am working, I am making mistakes. Every now and then I hit on something good. But that is few and far between.




























Some are a touch blurry which does urk me. This is due to manual focusing, a cheap camera, and slow shutter speed.

Wednesday, January 16, 2013

WAIT A MINUTES NOW!

    I came back to Memphis with melodies of paint transfers still ringing in my ears. I brought everything with me that I had been using the past few weeks at home, wall paint, acrylic paint, xylene, acetone, paper, etc. Then I went class Tuesday morning and reality hit quickly. This was a new ball game. It's where rubber starts meeting the road for me. I feel like an inept photographer. I have always felt this way. I'm not good with equipment, i'm simply good with my hands. 
    
  Studio Lighting- Day 1

  "I'm going to ask you all, every class period, to hold up your journals and if you don't have one,  you are going home and it's going to count as an absence". Studio Lighting is all about taking notes and drawing diagrams. 

    But our first assignment is more in my territory. We are supposed to find some external light source that is not typically used in a studio, and use it as if it were. This is for a project due on Tuesday. Ten 8x10 prints must be completed in just five measly days. We all drew names in class that informed us of who we would shoot in this project.

    I don't know why I am not jumping for joy at this one. I have always been really good at finding external sources and creating mock lighting studios out of my Grandmas hay loft, through the use copious amounts of extension cords. But that is my problem. I am not anywhere near her hay loft. I do not have an abundance of tools and equipment that I can run and grab at every whim. In a sense I have left my "studio", at home. 
So I have been buying a couple lights and trying things out. Here is a tip for all. NEVER BUY FLASHLIGHTS AT GOODWILL. You will be disappointed. 

    This is when I start to envy the painters life. These photos are testing different lighting sources. 






LED flashlight


                                                                          Stove Light

                                                   
                                                                      Stove Light
                                                                           
                                                                           Fridge Light
                                                                       Fridge Light

                             
                                                                            Oven Light


                                                                        Computer Screen

                                                                     
                    This was a bulb/candle - Taken right before I spilled the hot wax all over the carpet. Thank God the folks I live with were understanding. :)

                                                                           Porch Light
                                                         
                                  Green vase attached to a flashlight. I may try work with this.













Sunday, January 13, 2013

Back in Town

    Well I'm back in the land of Memphis! The place where one feels like they are spreading the gospel if they use their blinker in a timely manner. I decided to nail this down to a science.

1. If the driver behind you races up to your bumper swerving back and fourth trying trying to look around you, and then swerves lanes to clip you off and speed ahead, (as if you are a flake of dust in their window)- they are in deep need to the gospel and are heading to the hellish depths at a fast rate. 
Their cars are probably painted white/black and bashed in the front and on the right side.

2. If the driver around you, tailgates and then quickly swerves around, but manages to blink once as it enters your lane a foot ahead of your wind shield, annoyed that they have to reach toward the blinker -they have heard the word but because of their faults in life they have not managed to carry it out.
These cars are very new and shiny...2012 models.

3. If the driver behind you comes up quickly, doesn't use their blinkers to make it's way around you, but does indeed blink more at least 1.5 times to get back in your lane, (they are telling you that you are going to slow by cutting this blinker off at half point) - then they have at least been raised in a Godly fashion. 
These cars look normal.


4. If the driver behind obeys the law and blinks accordingly while not rubbing paint off your bumper - they are true missionaries and in deep need of  a profound respect. The lost are being reached through these wise souls.

These cars have a faint halo hovering gently above the roof of the cab.



  I have to take a studio lighting class this semester, so I took THE HEAD with me. Who knows, I might need it! I feel liberated to be back in town. This is the first time in three semesters, coming back here, that I knew where I would be sleeping. What a safe feeling! 
     I also brought one of my wedding dresses. I had an addiction a couple years ago, buying these things at the local thirst shop. Who could possibly turn down a mess of lace and frills for a measly five bucks!?? I thought I might put it on and then meander downtown to catch a few reactions...with a bucket for tips in my hands.



Friday, January 11, 2013

I was a boy scout

    Yup I sure was! For ten whole days I wore the badge of honor before tripping and falling flat on my face. For all you folks out there, desperation only leads to craigslist and craigslist only leads to ...
    This was two and a half years ago. I was looking for a job, living in Superior and going to school  at UWS. I saw the add and called only to leave a message into the great unknown. I remember only bit's and pieces of this,  but I received a phone call back quickly and before I knew it, I had the oddest phone interview in the history of man.  I could play the mandolin? Sing? "Uhh, ok. You're hired!" The man who I talked to, seemed unsure of himself, desperate, and very hurried. I think that I was his last choice. But I took it. I was to work at a boy scouts camp in Ely, living there for the summer and working as part of the historic team that entertained groups of boys that came back to camp after their adventures over in Boundary Water Land. WOW! But I had to become a Boy Scout. For me, this only meant that I needed for sign a paper and pay a crisp five dollars.

    I arrived mentally unprepared for what lay ahead.  After getting checked in and signing stuff that stated that I would be happy to be underpaid for a few months of work, I quickly began meeting the folks that I would be in training with for a week and fitted for a uniform. (As I write this, I am literally thinking, "Wow I want to do that again!")

    I met the coolest canadian woman my first day, who was going to get married that same summer, and who threaded her ear with... thread.  Slowly gadgeing it as she added more and more rings.  I tried that later that summer, and thought it very rad, only to have to take it out later for sanitary reasons while taking a nurses aid class... GA! Don't ask me how you plan for your wedding and work at a camp at the same time. But I guess she new how to work it.

    Everything seemed to be running smoothly, well that was until my boss showed up. He literally came pre-dressed in voyager costume. He was one of those that took his job to heart. In fact, I believe the poor man was badly placed histories timeline. In a split second after seeing him, I realized what a treat I was in for. My boss, we'll call him Steve, was a man who always came rushing into a room, yelling at his crew (his motley crew of two) trying to get things set up and ready. He was quite disorganized and painfully slow at really getting things done. But the booming sounds that came from his lungs made up for everything he lacked in his preparedness.

    So did I mention I was hired to work as a base staff? Does this require that I need to know how to swim well if I work on land? Uh no. But yes indeed, before a week was over,  all one hundred of us poor souls were informed that we were about ready to be tested in our water surviving capabilities. I think I was the only one not really aware that this was a requirement. I saw that my roommates took the situation lightly, saying that it was not going to be that bad. They were chipper the day of the test! These girls had worked at camps before. Laughter filled the bunkhouse as they talked about it.

    But I knew myself all too well.

    That evening we were packed like sardines into a few vehicles and shipped to the local water tank in town. Now I have to say that for Ely being so darn small, it sure has a fricken large pool. We all got out and everyone seemed in good spirits running to the high school lockers to change before lining up at the edge of the pool. Now being that I was unprepared for such a test, I was also unprepared in my gear as well. Therefore, like usual, I put my suit on, but also made sure to cover myself in some cotton material (shorts and a t-shirt). This was also to help my incoming death experience to be all the more rapid.
    We all lined up. People were laughing and joking. It was simple! The lifeguards started strolling the edge of the infernal depths. The test began. We would just have to dive in, swim back and forth twice and then do some river paddling. No Sweat!! My palms however were clammy and I was breathing hard as I shuffled forward in line listening and watching each complete the requirements. The pool looked a mile long. A couple boys in the back, became so roundy around the wet tile that one slipped and hit his head, promptly had a seizure behind me. Talk about putting a cherry one one's sunday.

    It was my turn. I managed to fake a "dive" swimming one way and then turing around and paddling back. My energy lasted about a minute. As soon as I felt weak and couldn't touch the bottom, I began to panic and yelled at the lifeguard that I needed to get out. I did, and I remained dripping wet on the edge of the pool, while the poor woman came by me frequently to ask if I was all right. I wasn't! I was horribly embarrassed at myself. I could hear faintly the sound of splashing, and managed to look up as everyone else finished with a peculiar ease.
     The girl came over to me and said. "Let's do it again." Everyone  was done and gone and with a drooping shoulders and cold body, jumped in again with her at my side trying once more to drowned myself.

     It was so painful for me. Halfway through the test, I gave up again, swimming to the edge of the pool in order to get out, but the girl began to yell at me and tell me I would do it. Believe it or not, I finished.

   I quickly dressed in the lockers overhearing sweet lifeguard talk quite loudly to her friend as they changed. "Signe did real well didn't she?"

    Ah shit, I'm too old for this.

    For our gold metals, we all were shipped to a Dairy Queen to feast on God's gift to man.  One young fellow, strong, tan, Californinan type, lifeguard himself, came over to me as I sat quietly by my roomies at the cramped cold table. "Boy you really can't swim can't you?" Can you he stated matter of fact like.  "No", I said. What I should have said was, "Well if you grew up perpetually dehydrated, and the only site of water came from a  hose that watered very large gardens and not you, you wouldn't be able to swim either!" I didn't.
Sadly the job didn't last, I freaked out. I lost to my fear of Idon'tknowwhat and went home. Signing myself up for a nurses aid class, I finished the summer in melancholy.

So that's my story of being a Boy Scout. :)




Photos of Hibbing














Tuesday, January 8, 2013

Wall paint is like butter cream frosting- the kind that kids make

    As kids, my sister and I would bake constantly. It was considered one of the funnest things that we could do together in the afternoon after school was over. We would concoct some of the most extremely decadent treats and plaster them with an intensely sugar filled coating. . .  runny butter cream frosting.
   I was reminded of this after driving home from the Grotte's this evening. It always seemed like Tab and I had to store our freshly baked goods in the fridge because our frosting couldn't hold it's own in the warm MN temperatures. It never failed by running off of the tall double layer cakes and onto the counter in small puddles, calmly making a huge mess. But what the heck! Did we care? It was sugar!

    I am comparing wall paint to this kind of frosting. And I am always a little let down when find that I simply cannot mold and form this kind of material, no matter how hard I try.  I want thick butter cream frosting that I can work with! The kind that grown people make. The kind that stands with peaks when you whip it in the bowl. And when I do, let the world stand back in wonder.



    Being that I will have no time in the next few days to work on anything I decided to blog again this evening. Off to my sisters and then off to Memphis. I was very sad packing my junk up in Dad's basement tonight. I'm excited to go back, but terribly sad to leave, again. OH LIFE!


This was a mural I did last summer. I thought I would post it along with the new one.











I have found my new love.  Just think of all the cool things I could coat with this!


This is of my favorite pieces ever made. Not because of it's intensely great looks, but because it was made during a time when it needed to constructed. It was therapy. Sadly only about two thirds of the family is sewn together, but I have left the needles in tack when I come back this summer to finish it up. 




Monday, January 7, 2013

Bread and Transfers

    So I haven't eaten real bread for nearly over six months. And I have found myself longing to indulge in this food staple that I used to take for granted.

   I decided a couple days ago to attempt making it again. I was mentally out of sorts and in odd disrepair, right from the start, and my creation started to show my mood prior to my facial expressions. Funny how this works huh?

     The recipe called for eight cups of flour, but I found out that using ground oatmeal as a substitute  required more then that in order for things to shape up. The dough started to look like a mass of mars soil before it even had enough power to be handle as a single entity. I nearly snapped. I used to be good at making bread! And now look! . . shit.
    Grandma was sitting at the dining table when she realized what was happening, and quickly got up and stood beside me. "I've handled bread dough just like this. We need to oil our hands".  (well I knew that... but I was not in the mood) I let go of my pride and Grandma came to the rescue washing and oiling her hands and dumping my mess onto the counter so that she could handle it better. Starting to punch and kneed it,  she began to sing a song, thanking God for all that He had given. She smiled and laughed at me.

     And the bread turned out very well! A little flat yes, but it had elasticity and bond.  Dear Grandma.




     The mural work continues. Today, I managed to apply the photos, and hopefully tomorrow I will be working on the tree. There are so many creative ideas coming from this project. And bad ones too of course.  I have learned never to mix acrylic project paint with interior wall paint. The result is a very a fragile skin like tissue that is very damage prone. I'm hoping to shellac it tomorrow in order to seal it up somehow. It's not a disaster, as I figured a way to utilize my blooper,  it's just a lesson learned. 

    I made sure to only use wall paint for the transfers and they worked out pretty well! Thanks to Katy Grotte, and her innate photo skills, we have some nice family shots on the wall.

    But I'm running out of time. Memphis calls. So we'll see how far tomorrow gets us.