I really miss the weirder side of photography. I've been walking the straight and narrow much too closely lately. So occasionally I put the Lensbaby on the Nikon or as I have been doing recently leave the Nikon in the bag and use the Samsung. I love the grain, the lack of sharpness—the more surreal quality of the Samsung. I plug in all the minus EV available because I love blackness. A few days ago I walked around the house shooting photographs of pictures or any object that I could find behind glass, through the glass into the china cabinet and the curio cabinet, getting double and multiple exposures in a single frame.
In the hallway I shot a photograph of a photograph of Janet’s Great Grandfather Peace and just down the hall a photocopy of my Great Grandfather’s discharge papers from the Civil War that Janet had done for me. Noticing them tonight I decided to combine the two photographs and frankly Scarlet, I like the results. Interestingly they both came to Texas from Missouri after the Civil War, hers from Howell County on the Arkansas border and my from Scotland County on the Iowa Border.
I have a few other shots that I did that I liked so I’ll just post a couple.
This is another photograph that I thought turned out interesting. Janet loved seashells. What is shown here is only a small part of the ones in the curio cabinet. Most of the objects in the curio cabinet are in the same positions that Janet originally put them. The shells are Janet's arrangement. Over the years I have moved a few things but very few. I did move the small figure for this shot but I thought that for the photograph it was appropriate. There are actually two of the figures in slightly different poses. Janet found them partially buried in the beach sand at Morgan's Point after a hurricane one year. They are just pot metal so they don't have anything more than sentimental value although it would be interesting to know their history. I thought that gave the figure enough of a nautical background to be combined with the sea shells. The sand dollars in the jar were collected on the beach at Galveston by my stepmother one year when my folks were down for Thanksgiving.