Good Lighting is Everything

As I am trying to whittle down my thousands of photos from Africa to a few hundred for a photo book that won’t bore the casual friend who asks about the trip one thing is clear; the lighting is almost the most important factor in determining a great photo from a so-so one. This is not news to me and out in the bush I had limited control over what I could push my camera to do. If only I had taken more lessons on actually how to use the powerful equipment I owned I might have been able to do more, but overall I think I got more than enough great material.

As I age I find that lighting is a crucial element in my everyday life. When I was younger I did not appreciate how great my eyes were. So many times my father would say something positive about my “young” eyes and what they could see. I never had to wear glasses until I was about 45 and then the deadly readers became required.

At first if I had bright enough light I could make due when trying to read tiny writing on a hotel bottle of shampoo, or is that body lotion I am about to put in my hair? Now even a thousand watt bulb does not help me in that situation. Why don’t hotels realize that old farts in the shower are not wearing their reading glasses and at least make the “S” in a 32 point font or bigger?

Today, while playing Mah Jongg in the dark Dover Bar at Hope Valley, yes we play games in a bar when it is closed to drinkers; I was doing my normal multitasking and needle pointing while playing. Since I was already working an 18-mesh canvas, which to you non-stitchers means the tiny little petit point canvas, I had my strongest readers on. The ornament is one of Africa in celebration of our trip and it has a grey mountain as well as a different grey elephant on it. In the dark of the bar I stitched two whole threads of one grey called Heron, on the mountain and then two whole threads of the other grey called Steel Grey on the same mountain.

Only when I went to pull a fifth thread from my bag did I realize that I had used two different colors. I showed my friend Christy the canvas and asked her with her young eyes to see if I in fact had made this error. Even she at first thought it was all right, but did question it. I went to the next room where I could use the power of the sun to examine my work. Yes, I had used two different colors — it was a rookie mistake.

It was then that I pulled out my “Bra Light”, actually a baseball cap light Russ had given me, and clipped it to the ever-steady intersection of the underwires of my bra at the center. Bright light shone on my gaff and I was able to cut away the offending yarn and start over.

Why was I not wearing my bra light in the first place? My eyes are too old, the existing light was too dim, and my Mah Jongg friends needed something good to laugh at. Me with an illuminated cleavage is good fodder for ridicule. Here is what I know, I want good strong light when I have tiny work to do, I want soft gentle light when anyone is taking a picture of me and I want just enough light to recognize my winning Mah Jongg tile as it is being thrown. All that light is not the same; perhaps I am doing too many things all at once.