The Dark Months are heavy upon us here in the Pacific Northwest. It rained all day yesterday in the lowlands and snow fell in the high mountains. The sky is gloomy and leaden and I suspect many people in Seattle are plugging in their “light therapy” lamps and reaching for the Prozac.
Being a both a cheapskate and an electricity-saving environmentalist, I’m reluctant to turn lights on in my house during the “daylight” hours. I walked past our kitchen table and noticed that Leah had placed an apple in a small, antique bowl, but I very nearly missed recognizing the scene’s photographic potential because there was so very little daylight coming in the kitchen window.
Slowly, dimly, glacially, the neurons began to move in my head. Vision -- believe me, I use the word now with great humility -- emerged through the thick molasses of my rainy-season brain funk. I put a camera on a tripod, made an exposure of eight seconds at f8, and the Canon digital sensor magically produced an image that transcended darkness (both mental and physical.)
When I played with the image later on my computer, I decided to add digital “noise.” A grainy, old-looking image seemed aesthetically pleasing. It also happens to reflect my mental state as I made the picture.
