This is another shot from Saturday morning’s bike ride around Kemang. I like how what used to be a building frames the art that’s growing up around the area. I will say this, though: there is little more difficult than trying to figure out which horizontal line in this photo should be straight. One of the rules of a good photo is that the horizon should be straight. The problem with this photo is that there are a couple too many horizons.
I still liked it enough to post it.
How about you?
Sometimes a color stands out better because it is in contrast to another color.
Here’s the blue, blue sky of this Mother’s Day weekend.
I finished off my daughter’s birthday cake, a “Lime Cream Cheese Tart“, with a white chocolate ganache. I then sliced up this lime to garnish, but never ended up using it.
I did, however, manage to snap off a few photos of it. I like the contrast of the green on white background.
I’ve been at home due to illness for the last two days. Finally, this afternoon, I felt well enough to go for a walk. We live about five minutes from Cultus Lake and I like taking walks at this lake in the fall. There are few tourists, even fewer boaters and just lovely colors and peaceful water.
If you think it’s pretty, come on over. I’ll take you for a walk that’ll knock your senses for a loop.
Easily the most colorful event I’ve attended within my own country (Canada is colorful, but not like a Guatemalan market) was the Indian wedding earlier this month. It was amazing. The bride, above, was a vision of beauty, but I loved seeing her brothers (? Cousins?) escort her through the temple. The red bandanas marked them as part of the bride’s side of the wedding. At my wedding, everyone just sat on one side of the church or the other to denote who they were with.
It appears that, when it comes to parenting and steering and guiding children, it doesn’t matter into which culture you’re born. I’ve personally done the “iron-hand-hold-walk-this-way” method of steering my children when they were in places of worship or formality. It’s like a universal parent language. Firm, but not constricting. Commanding, not a suggestion. Quiet, yet loudly speaking about what is right and wrong. Physical touch can communicate so much.
I’ll be painting my basement soon, so today I was out buying paint. It occurred to me, through the wise and kind words of my family, that I am one of the least qualified people to go out on his own to buy paint. I, like many men, am color-deficient. I am not completely red/green colorblind, but I do have serious deficiencies in color identification in the red/green color spectrum.
When I suggested that I could go out on my own to buy Batman Grey and Superman Blue for the basement, which is becoming a superhero themed man-cave, everyone jumped in with their little quips about how I couldn’t be trusted to handle this task on my own. Let me explain the extent of my, ahem, deficiency.
At Christmas, I am overwhelmed by the green-ness of everything, not realizing that there is a great deal of red against the green. Red lights, red garlands, red bows – all green to my eyes. Not until I am within a couple of centimeters of the tree do my eyes distinguish the red against the green. When I was in high school, I was called upon to name the country that was green on a large map hanging at the front of the room. I couldn’t tell which was green, as they all looked green. On top of that, purples (because of the red in it) comes through as blue.
Let’s just say, I’ve learned that the smartest thing to do in my wardrobe is to concentrate on three dominant colors: brown, navy and black. Browns and navies are easy to coordinate with each other, but black wins in my closet. Black is my favorite (lack of) color. I am often dressed in all black and have endured years of, “Hey, Johnny Cash!” comments from co-workers and family members. I also like the varying shades of black, from charcoals to heathers to deep blacks to washed out blacks. I even, in moments of fashion-forwardness, pair browns and navies with black in a nose-snubbing way to prove that black does, in fact match with everything.
One danger, however, is illustrated by the photo above. When I take my daughter to a paint-your-own pottery place for her birthday, I am happy, joyous even, when they label their color so blatantly. I could easily end up with a color-challenged project if I am to depend on my own abilities to detect the colors in front of me.
Thanks, kind person, for making 104 Orange so easy for me to “see”.
I made my favorite of Jamie Oliver’s recipes tonight, Perfect Roast Potatoes, and it calls for Clementine peels. I did not know what a Clementine was until I made these potatoes (I’ll show you what they looked like in tomorrow’s post…oooh, suspense!). It turns out they’re “a variety of Mandarin Orange” and they’re super sweet and delicious.
As for the photo, I desaturated all colors except orange when I processed this shot and I liked the way it looked. Also, now I’m hungry for Clementines. Oh my darling, Clementine. Do you think they were singing about the oranges? ”Thou are lost and gone forever, Oh my darling, Clementine” (because I ate you, haha).