A ripped bag plus an explosion of kernels plus a little sweeping equals a grand photo opportunity.
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Taking photos of eyeballs....
so you don't have to.
About Me
- Mike Bailey
- I started taking pics in 2004. I use a Canon PowerShot A640. I live in Rome, GA. I'm married and have three children. Feel free to post a comment on my pics or commentary.
Eyeball Central is also about....
what eyeballs do.
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Reading: Living Justification
Author is my brainy friend, Jonathan Huggins
listening to nowadays: Lana del Rey
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Eyeballs AND Hands
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Some of my favorite art, one piece at a time
Shuttlecocks by Claes Oldenburg and Coosje van Bruggen
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6 comments:
Did you put a mirror behind them to make it look like a lot of kernels?
This is where you and I differ as photographers. I would have sighed and swept up the mess and never thought about a photo op.
No, no mirror. I dropped a LOT of popcorn.
When i was a kid, maybe ten or eleven years old, I had a little, incredibly cheap camera. I took, oh, two or three rolls of pictures over the course of its life. Maybe less--can't remember. But the few pictures i did take, apart from those of my dog and my relatives, were what my dad described then, and even more recently, as "weird." So I think that is also a point of difference between our outlook in photography. You have a very good eye for beauty, technoprairie, but like most folks you chiefly use the camera to "chronicle" events and people and places in your life. I do that, too. Sure. But I also just like to capture, and in some cases create, funky images that serve no purposes apart from being, well, funky.
I like the funky. Big into the funk.
It was very nice and chivalrous of you. But I spilled the popcorn. And that is probably the only way I will contribute to true art--accidentally.
accidentally counts, too. and like it's done any differently for all but, you know, fifty people a century. but whatever.
thought i spilled it. seems like i should have.
Sometimes funky images like this one remind me of a story, even if they don't actually chronicle the people or events in it.
There are corn kernels everywhere on our Nebraska farm during October--filling grain bins, piled in trucks, spilled on the ground outside our farmhouse, and lying in smaller piles inside the house. We don't see Dad much during harvesttime; he spends all day picking corn, coming home after his girls have already gone to bed, and going back to the fileds early, before we're up. We can tell that he's been home, though, because there are corn kernels on the floor. Little piles of them, kernels that collected in his shirt pocket and jeans and boots as he worked, then dropped out unnoticed as he undressed at night.
No one has ever captured those little messes of kernels on film, but your photo reminds me of them. We love harvesttime, but we also have a family celebration every year when it ends, to give thanks for a fruitful year and for more time, now, with our dad--rather than just those little left-over piles of spilled kernels that remind us of him.
:)
so ms. marmeladeinstead--
i was thinking, hm...., that name is so familiar, and what a sweet entry. and oh, she's a very fine writer as well. then i remembered who you were!
thanks for the response; it painted a very nice picture.
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