Dancing Baby Bok Choy

After 5 years of shooting greenmarket produce in the studio, at Union Square, Italy and other various places, I needed to do something with all those digital images other than use them to grace friend’s and family’s homes and fill numerous hard drives to capacity. So, with a little trepidation I started an Etsy store to sell digital prints, not as expensive art, but as affordable graphics to frame and hang in the kitchen, which is where I think they belong.

And although I’ve been focused on business these past few months, I’m now anxiously waiting for spring to return so I can continue this project.

It’s just way too cold to go out now.

Nastutium + Tomatoes

I’ve been trying to match a hundred or so photographs from my Shooting from the Hip series into complimentary pairs. A lot of questions came up regarding color, texture, light, camera angle, and a myriad of other qualities. But the one overarching question was, what makes two photographs viewed together, side by side, visually more interesting than one?

That lead the discussion back to my last posting, where Feature Integration Theory was mentioned. Okay, I’m not out on the street taking in the sights (or in caveman style, looking for food or danger), but sitting at a table with a carpet of two inch thumbnail prints I’m jockeying around like a board game. Intuitively I arranged pairs of little prints on the fly – instantly, they either matched or didn’t. Of course there were some gray areas where I couldn’t decide. In many cases however, I simply took two images I had glanced at and instinctively paired them, left and right.

In Feature Integration Theory, “Preattentive Stage” is the first stage of seeing, when we recognize color, shape, direction of light, etc. I researched this a bit, but didn’t find anything substantial online about differences in perception between the left and right eyes when viewing two different images. But I have to think there is something in our brain that definitely favors seeing a particular color or shape on either the left or the right. Probably has something to do with predatory animals attacking from our left, because they are mostly right-pawed or something like that.

Maybe I should have been a researcher so I could get funding and figure this out.

12:10PM 04/21/2010 - A Tableaux of Ramps

Some days I see tableaux. Some days I see boxes with piles. It depends upon where I look and what my eyes (and brain) decide to see. It’s been proven in studies that we see what we want to see, depending upon what our current state of mind is, what we’re looking at and for how long.

There is something called the Feature Integration Theory developed by Anne Treisman. Color, intensity, direction of light, orientation, curvature, line ends and movement are the primary features we search for in a “preattentive stage,” when we are taking in the primitive information, before we actually recognize what it is we’re looking at.

Then we get busy  connecting this primitive information in our brains and recognize the geometric shape of the object in the “focused attention stage.”

Finally, in the “object recognition stage, we connect this information to the higher functioning parts of our brains and identify exactly what it is we’re looking at. I’ve simplified this theory (far be it from me to really explain this further), but it does basically work like this, according to her theory.

When I’m shooting in the market, I stay locked in the preattentive stage (or so I think), looking for information that translates into something I want to process further. The challenge is taking that raw information and processing it in a different perspective. In other words, instead of processing what I see from my eye level, I process the scene from a low, wide angle perspective or a birds eye view without actually having to get down on my knees or up on a ladder. I suspect if you shoot with a camera long enough, the brain begins to connect to the viewfinder or LCD. Even if you’re not looking through it.

I wonder if there’s a theory on that?

Beets Resprouting

It’s amazing. After a long winter of storage these beets are bursting with life. As a kid, I remember taking potatoes with toothpicks and sitting them in a glass of water to sprout. Sounds lame when you compare that to surfing the web for half pipes in San Diego or looking for used laboratory equipment for your next science project on eBay.

I can’t find anything about eating or preparing resprouting beets, or other vegetables for that matter, but I have to guess that they’re at the market for a reason. Does anyone know how to prepare resprouting veggies?

12:37PM, 3/10/2010 - Apricot Blossoms for Sale in Union Square Market

Nothing says “Spring” like twigs with blossoms. So, I’m going to assume winter is officially over, even if we still have 10 days to go.

Somehow, mushrooms don’t say “Spring” at all.

11:43AM, 2/3/2010 - Late Season Winesap Apple with Dead Leaf

The leaf is dead, but the apple lives on.

I find it amazing that apples keep for so many months after harvest. According to AskMen.com (a web site for kitchen challenged men, among other things), “if stored in a cool, dry area (the basement and the fridge drawer are always good picks), apples can last anywhere between 3 to 6 months.”

Honey has an indefinite shelf life. Supposedly in Egypt in 1800, some archeologists found a pot of honey and, when opened, found it tasted just fine. (Both died later from the curse of Tutankhamen. >I’m making that part up<).

Sliced turkey, on the other hand, gets slimy in a few days.

Go Figure.

A Rutabaga and a Pair of Diamond and Green Amethyst Earrings Set in Gold

My fruits and vegetables have taken on a new purpose as props for expensive jewelry. I love the earthy quality of root vegetables against the gloss and glow of gemstones set in precious metal. And in this case, I just love the word – rutabaga. I think Bugs Bunny used the word once in a football cheer.

What’s next? Now I’m looking for artisans with hand made jewelry. And maybe asparagus, but that’s out of season. What looks good with asparagus anyway? Tiaras?

12/14/09, 10:14AM Union Square Market - Where's the Purple Broccoli?

Where’s the purple broccoli?

I make my marketing message as clear as possible because I want the attention of the smart, little shops with brilliant creatives who fly under the radar, as well as the equally brilliant big boys. I’d certainly lose the interest of those I wish to work for if I sent out a constant stream of mixed messages. Not an easy task in a competitive industry as this, but probably one of the most important lessons we can learn and a word we know all to well. Focus.

If you want to find your audience, keep your message consistent, your work focused and your vision clear.

Onion Mirror

A vision evolving.

While in the process of this particular exploration I’m finding there is a lot of failure. Not failure in the sense of exposure or composition, but failure in concept and vision. And, there’s certainly no value in putting images into my book simply because I did it. Right now, I’m developing the concept of a dark series. The vision is evolving and this shot is more like what I need for the new series; it definitely feels like a sister image to the Steak photo that started it all, back in October.

Now the challenge is to find a thread that connects my next dark image to the first two.

2:02PM, 12/28/2009 - Celebration Onion 2010

I bought a dozen onions and brought them into the studio for the usual shoot ‘em and eat ‘em routine. One by one I placed them on set and, one by one, little personalities revealed themselves. These are the year-end onions, the ones that aren’t in the best of shape, but are still worth eating. No longer are the stems green and bright, they’re brown and look more like the ones in the supermarket than the greenmarket, shipped from far away and weeks or months old.

Am I deluded? Onions? Little personalities? Four years of this and still thinking there are little people in there somewhere. Should I make a metaphorical reference to the year passing as layers of an onion and go cliché on everyone?

Too late.

I pay homage to 2009 with this celebration onion. I will cut into it with sharp abandon, and with tears in my eyes, throw the thin slices into a hot frying pan drizzled with sesame oil, sizzling and transforming itself into something sweet, fragrant and appealing. Oh, how 2010 should be so transformed from 2009.

Happy New Year.