My ever-supporting muse suggested that instead of moping about my De Chirico model flop – my efforts should this weekend instead be concentrated on the photo bottle project. To that end, she had invited a few good friends to dinner – and each guest was to bring an interesting bottle. A glorious selection of fine and interesting wines arrived, but unfortunately, the actual bottles were not. Something had gone wrong in the translation. Funny isn’t it, the more expensive and/or famous the wine – the plainer the bottle and label. (Penfolds Grange Hermitage must be the ultimate insult in that regard.)
However, I do admire top wine makers. True artisans. How they can make billions of wild yeast cells dance to their tune whilst I cannot make our domesticated and trusty dog follow a simple verbal command, is still a mystery me. I have my theories, but that’s another story.
In the wee hours, and guests dispatched, I was, animated and stimulated, back in artistic business. Bottles were carefully arranged and the camera given a serious 10 – 20 minutes workout. I went to bed buoyed by the day’s events. However, something must have gone horribly wrong with the camera – the pictures were either totally blurred or there was not a bottle in sight. Had one great picture of the ceiling light, though, perfectly exposed, sharp, and fulfilling all the compositional rules of thirds!
(To prove I have not completely lost the plot, the accompanying photo is one of my earlier attempts.)
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