The good thing is that we have two showings today — numbers 2 and 3 of this second round with a new agent. Fingers crossed, and all that good stuff.
On a lighter note, we picked up some tortillas on Monday so yesterday we finally got around to trying our Tortilla Pizza idea. It worked very well. Very well indeed.
I don’t know what kind of tortillas the person who originally suggested the idea was using because their timing or our oven are quite a bit different. The bake time at 425 that they recommended was 12-14 minutes. I set the timer for 12 minutes but at 6 minutes I decided to take a peek to see how we were progressing. Lo and behold — 6 minutes is all these little guys take!!!!!! (that’s on the middle rack in a preheated oven on a pizza stone)
On thing for sure. A 9″ pizza is not enough to feed 2 adults. 🙂
We tried making three small ones — pop the next one in the oven when we took the former one out of the oven. With simple toppings — like broccoli and cheese above — they are a nice start to a meal, or with several in succession you get enough to fill you up. (sorry about the blur) Note to self: next time check the ingredients on the bag. These were from Mission, and the ingredients list isn’t the expected 5 ingredients, there must be 25 ingredients half of which are hard to pronounce. Gotta be smarter about what I put in my body. But at least we know it’s a workable idea. And this way the tortillas actually taste good!
On another front, I spent most of the day still working on images. I’ve trimmed quite a few thousand images out of my library, have more to do, and am making progress on keywording.
Retirement means I have different purposes to retaining the images I took when I was working. So, I am finding a difference between the images I thought I would retain a year and a half ago when we started down this retirement road — and the ones I am keeping now. So also has my desire for indexing changed over time. The key words I used to use to find things seem no longer to be important. I had keywording in place for all sorts of processing — all those post-processing little tricks photographers use to make better images. So, I have sort of rethought the entire process. I have never liked cataloguing, but at a time when we are treading water because of the sale of the house it’s good to have a huge, time consuming project to keep my mind in a better place. However, the flip side of the coin — and maybe part of the reason I write about it is that people think photography is a “fun way” to make a living. Fact of the matter is that there’s a lot of grunt work to be done. Running a business is always, running a business. There are fun parts, but business is business.
I have been enjoying reviewing 40+ years of images on all manner of subjects. I’ve shot a lot of different subjects over the years, and each image has special memories associated with it. And I mean that pretty literally. I have trimmed out many of the images from my studio shoots, but when I was doing studio work it was not unusual to produce 1200 images in a 4 hour session. There were things about every one of those images that were special — even the experimental images. When I look back at them now, and try to throw away images I no longer need it’s still like throwing away your children. There are plenty of images I know I will never need or want, but when I sit at the computer with my finger poised over the delete key I can see a dozen specific details about each one, or about what was going on in the studio, or the personality of the model, etc., etc., etc..
It’s been good to have a productive, positive, fun life. There are times I’ve almost felt guilty because I enjoyed my work so much. But the world has changed so much and I’m not sure whether someone else could start a career doing what I did and be successful in this environment. The business of photography has changed that much.
Finally to end this entry, a thought about communication.
I turned on Foyles War last night. Channel 36 is currently running reruns. Set in the middle of WWII in Britain there are a lot of little ways in which social change since then is highlighted. What caught my imagination last night was the sight of people using a red British Phone Box.
I grew up with land line telephones; that time before personal communications devices. I got to thinking about how access to communications has changed us.
In those days there weren’t always phone booths (to use the american term) weren’t always available. And, when you have to keep dropping coins in the slot a person is a lot more hesitant to pick up the phone to talk. Communication used to be a luxury — and the comparative costs were a lot higher.
The same evening I watched the Season Opener of Body of Proof (ok, ok — so I have a thing for Dana Delaney — ever since the days of China Beach – who doesn’t like a redhead?) In this episode it started out with a new assistant for her who could not shut up — yackety, yackety, yackety.
That kind of constant talking is something I don’t remember from my youth. Oh, there are always times little kids get wound up and talk your ears off, but as far as I can remember I never knew an adult who nattered away ceaselessly in those days. Today it seems there are a lot of people who never get tired of hearing the sound of their own voices. Or who feel the need to tell everyone every little thing going on in their life (as in Facebook).
It’s a huge change to go from a world where you had close relationships with those in your immediate family, your neighbors, and your co-workers, to a world where you tell virtual strangers countless details about your life but many of us don’t even know our neighbors, hate their family, and poke fun at their co-workers to others.
Years ago, when I was driving commercially, finding a phone booth to call home (or talk to a dispatcher) was a special event. Sometimes you couldn’t find one. Other times they were broken. I can remember calling on alternate days, having my call ended abruptly when I didn’t have more change to drop in the slot, and walking away from the booth almost sadder than before because the sound of familiar voices was so dear to me — and being away so hard.
Communication was dear because of it’s relative rarity.
Keeping in touch was special because it required effort.
I don’t know how my grand child or her grand children will feel about communication. I’m sure that just as things have changed over the last 60 yrs they will continue to morph and modify. I almost wish I could be here then.