Fading Tulip: Portraits

Today I felt as faded as the tulip in my vase.

Creativity can be a real pain. Editing my manuscript was going pretty well, until I discovered that Google Drive saves documents not just to the docs file, but also to the Drive file. Something I’d never known before. I only found out when I was editing my story and came across a sentence that I’d already deleted. What’s going on? Two copies of the same document, one with edits, one without. That wouldn’t have been so bad, if I hadn’t been editing the wrong document. Searching Drive by the title of the document apparently resulted in the wrong document popping up at random. Since I didn’t know about the two copies, I wasn’t paying attention to what it said at the top of the toolbar, which would have told me which copy I was editing. Curses on Google!

That’s why it’s good to have more than one creative outlet. When one fails you, you can turn to the other. When I got fed up with editing, I picked up my camera. Justifiably, or not, I’m sometimes in love with my own photography.

When we take a picture, what we’re photographing is light. Not just the light reflected by the subject, but also the ambient light.
This is the same tulip photographed in a different room with different light. The wall is actually white, but the ambient light comes from electric bulbs, so the camera captures that golden light and turns the wall yellow. If I’d waiting until daytime, my camera would have captured bluish daylight. think this tulip is beautiful even as it fades away. The petals look like silk, a woman’s skirt blowing in the wind.
The artificial light makes the tulip look more golden than it actually is, but I like the way it looks against the wall.
Since I haven’t learned to paint yet, I have to pretend I’m Georgia O’Keeffe with a camera.
By the light of fluorescent lamps seeping in from the kitchen. I tired a flash, but all I got was a white blob.

Windows 10 is also a pain. It stores my stuff in three different places. All too often, I can’t find what I’m looking for and have to go through a bunch of files to find the one I want. I have to admit, I’m not a terribly organized person, so that doesn’t help.

Did I mention Word Press? Yet another pain. Lately it hasn’t been able to fine the preview page, so I have to publish my posts without previewing them.

Despite all the hassles. taking these photos, editing, and posting them, writing the essay have been enjoyable. Mostly.

Latvian Easter Eggs

Resist dyed eggs.

For centuries Latvians have been using natural ingredients to dye Easter eggs. I know it’s late to be posting this, but I only just found this photo and it’s too pretty not to share.

These eggs were dyed using onions, which go in the pot of water the eggs are boiled in. You need a lot of onion skins. Tiny leaves and flowers are dampened and applied to a dampened egg. Then the eggs are wrapped in gauze to hold the leaves in place, boiled till they’re hard and allowed to stay in the dye bath all night to get color depth. Less time in the dye bath means a lighter color.

To get a marbled effect, wet onion skins are crunched and applied directly to a dampened egg and wrapped in gauze. Adding a dash of white vinegar to the dye bath helps the dye adhere to the egg.

Red cabbage results in blue eggs. Beet juice for red eggs.

Latvians aren’t the only ones who dye eggs using natural ingredients. Instructions for achieving different colors, lavender, green, yellow are available online.