I’m sure my parents did their best to teach me as a child not to play with my food, so I guess I must begin here by saying publicly: Sorry, Mom. Playing with food is exactly what I did this week.
Working in the garden, harvesting the bounty that Leah would take to the kitchen to can and preserve for us to eat this winter, my cameras and I eventually got waylaid. I mean, a man can only pick peas and strawberries for so long when distractions get the best of him. I made off with some of the peas and found a spot where the camera and I did a photo exercise in light and composition. Another day as I picked strawberries, I took a break from my labor and enticed the always-willing model, Pumpkin, to be part of a snapshot.
You gotta feel sorry for the two long-suffering women in my life. My Mom tried to teach me proper table manners, but her efforts apparently went for naught. And my wife would dearly appreciate it if I spent more time picking produce than I do photographing it.
What can I say? I’m a male and a photographer, so visual distractions are what I do best.
