My Canvas for the World.
The February chill had subsided and a spring like day has begun with a sense of adventure. Jen and I met up with friends for an outing in the hill country. My wife had planned an event for us in the evening. Liking a good mystery, my interest was piqued.
The sun was setting and all would be revealed.
We parked and checked in and were handed two flat packed rice paper lanterns
In the fall of 2021, I took a storytelling course at Merlin Works School of Improvisation. I have always been a good writer and the course was absolutely wonderful. Taught by Paul Normandin, a great storyteller and a winner of the MOTH slam, and also great at Improv. He is the Dean of Merlin Works, and an awesome guy. When we had our graduation showcase, I did a story involving photographs and that was recorded.
Merlin Works has now two show nights a month and I do the photography for the event. One of the new offerings that started up is “No Shame Theatre Austin” a 5-minute open mic without the mic, with two rules: “Don’t hurt the stage.” and “Don’t hurt the audience.” It’s for $5 at the door and that covers the space. What it also accomplishes is being a forum to test out new material. We have had actors, singers, stand-up, storytellers, musicians, puppeteers, playwriters, magic, poets and rappers. It’s wonderful to see the creative process unfold. I asked and was allowed to host. Will get better at that but it is pretty simple. Our No Shame Theatre is pretty flexible, and simple. People sign up on “The List” Their position denotes the order of their performance. The host explains the show, Merlin Works, gets the audience ready, and reads the order, and is pretty much done until the end of the show. People come up in succession, if someone looses their place between acts, they simply shout “Order” and the order is read.
I debuted a story “The Frenchmen” and I have posted a practice run of below. It tells the tale of an influential moment in my young life. Stories take on a life of their own. They are written, honed, worked, fashioned until they are just right. A story when told will never be the same story twice. Events change, different parts are emphasized or edited out. A story is a part of a person, it’s the creative expression of a true event to others, it is disclosure, and a sharing, a risk and on some level a show of vulnerability, and most a genuine expression and sharing of an event. It can be filtered through the lens of history and recall a place and a sense. It can relay those sensations thoughts and feelings that are significant to the storyteller. As is also true when people communicate the relationship, they share between audience and storyteller is never the same again.
You may think when you hear a short story such as on The Moth Radio Hour, since it is recorded live its off the cuff and created on the spot. To have that raw feel to a story takes true talent. Most stories are written, edited, workshopped, revised and practiced. Some have a narrative approach, others have an in the moment feel, some are humorous, suspenseful and the mechanics of the story have a lot of thought. I reviewed my first story, and for a 520-word story its creation was just not getting through with the class. After a re-write the Friday before the showcase, it made all the sense in the world. I drew repeating parallels throughout the story, it pulled in memories and experiences that everyone can relate to.
My latest story “The Frenchmen” did not have relatability of a common experience. I changed time, recalled experiences and feelings, and moved the listener through how things came to be as filtered through the lens of the experiences. The resonating themes meet to a resolve. Is everyone in the happy place at the end? Perhaps not, as that is the beauty of stories, they do not always end happily ever after, the hero may not get the girl, and sometimes the bad guys win. I probably would not have dreamed that my experiences would be of interest to others, had not considered the feelings of accomplishment, and resolve telling a story can bring.
If you have read my work such as “The Munsters and” I you have some clues as to what makes me… well, ME! As a storyteller preparing to share a story to an unknown audience is a little scary, a little thrilling, a little revealing, and the sum of these parts is a feeling of victory and accomplishment. The “I did it!!” feeling. I let down some of the wall and let people peer in. Challenged as I was growing up and trying to manage a normal, I was very factual about my circumstances. Here is to growing forward.
I remember the little fluffy ball of fur and her short constant meows and jackhammer like purring like it was yesterday when I brought her home. Tiny nose, teeth, and claws poking out from the airholes in the cardboard pet carrier. She was the runt of her pen, starving for food and affection. The first thing I did was change her shelter name from Squirt to Miss Pauly because I counted 5 toes on her front feet, 6 toes on her back feet, she is a polydactyl torti cat with extra big feet and big stare you down golden eyes. She had me to depend on, no longer would her needs be unmet . Countless days laying in the sunshine, staring out in the trees from the windowsill, or on the top of the couch, conversations in the kitchen, and warm snoozes in my lap. She especially loved Christmas Time and would spend hours under the warm glow staring up at the lights of the Christmas Tree. I made sure she had the best food, vet care, was kept happy with kitty treats on occasion. Despite the best care the ravages of time leaves nothing unchanged. Dr. K said she has arthritis, an elevated kidney enzyme, and the spot on her neck had not responded to her course of treatment. She had never bounced back from her abscess treatment, not eating, talking, or wanting to cuddle. She had stopped coming to work, her job was lounging on the towel I had for her on my desk while I did the paying work. Dr. K said she was dehydrated, has lost weight under all that fur, and her breathing was shallow and labored, the x-ray showed a mass in her lung. Alone I held my fluffy torti girl as she journeyed across the rainbow bridge, saying goodbye and thanking her for the wonderful joy and companionship she brought into my life for the past sixteen years. It was so sudden, Covid even screwed this up as my fiancé Jen was unable to say goodbye to her friend of six years. I counted her toes one last time, five in the front, and six in the back. Returning with the now empty cat carrier, apparently our misery loves company, the van battery decided to throw a tantrum. With the hood up, someone had compassion for two people bawling their eyes out to jump-start the van, we drove home in silence. A few months later we now have two new calico sister kittens Emma and Ella who have restored some joy and happiness to our home. And the van, it also has a new battery.
Miss Pauly was a wonderful cat, and filled my life with joy from her kittenhood in 2003. Her friend Jasper a red tabby also had a good life until his chronic kidney disease and old age reached a point where he needed to cross the rainbow bridge a few months later.
Ella and Emma have grown now to cats, are a year old now and still frolic among the hose chasing each other. Their personalities have developed into their kooky selves.
An article by Mark Charbonneau
This article is my true lived experiences without embellishment. As a warning to readers, it contains some mild-language and graphic descriptions.
When kids can tell you all about their favorite superhero or dinosaur, I could tell you I have Hemi-Facial Microsomia with Goldenhares Syndrome, a congenital Facial Difference*. Internally and externally, the left side of my face did not develop symmetrically, and was smaller, like a normal face fused with a baby doll’s face. It’s caused by a vascular infarct that impedes blood flow to developing structures early in the first trimester. This vascular starvation complicates the growth pattern for the affected regions as everything else develops normally. My natural non-functioning left ear and eye resemble that squishy undersized grape you find on the bunch. Important facial muscles and structures internally and externally are missing, causing my left eye not to blink, or my smile and left lip not to move in unison with the right. Herein lies the crux, Sigmund Freud coined the term “Unheimlic” which translates to a sense of oddness, a weird disturbing feeling of uneasiness. It’s that off-putting feeling people get when a costume mask, a wax statue, or a mannequin, is perceived as unnaturally human. Your brain is so finally tuned to the symmetry and aesthetics of a face that subconscious judgments are made even before your conscious mind is aware you are looking at a face. I know when the majority of people first see me, they want to know about my face. Let me be empirically clear: what you first see is not what you get, and your first impression of me is not who I am. Realistically, people see a Facial Difference and not the person behind it. The trials I have gone through have not made me bitter, but stronger, and challenged me to develop a “true grit” that transcends what people see and has touched all aspects of my life.
After school I used to watch re-runs of The Munsters, a late 1960’s sitcom shot in black and white about a family of benign monsters living in a creepy mansion with typical family issues. The Munsters were comical, but in a strange way I related to them, which came to mind wanting to illustrate how our society is different for people with a Facial Difference such as myself. For those younger than I, lets meet the characters of The Munsters. Herman Munster is the breadwinner of the family, works at a funeral parlor, and has a jovial simple nature. He resembles Frankenstein, with a flat head, scars, sunken eyes, bolts on his neck, tall and lumbering. The other family members Lilly his wife, Eddie their young son, and Grandpa are vampires, and ancillary to our discussion. Lilly’s niece Marylyn, a fetching young blonde college student living with the Munsters is the catalyst between the family and society. Standing in stark contrast to the Munster family, her appearance is “normal.” Her plain appearance is viewed as an affliction, as she is the “Ugly Duckling” of the family. In conversation this is referenced as being “her handicap.” or “her condition.” Marylyn bemoans her appearance as responsible for frightening off would-be suitors, when internally it is her misaligned projection of people’s reactions to the families outlandish appearance onto herself combined with the families coincidental meeting of her suitor that does the trick. This gag was used extensively to exaggerate the contrast between the “normal” and a “bizarre” reality.
What truths and life lessons could I, a school-age youngster learn from The Munsters? Like my family, the family units were strong, stable, endearing, despite different life stages and roles. All family members thrive in their own way without animosity and based on a sound foundation of family created a rich loving happy state of normal. My siblings are 6 and 7 years my senior, and in different life roles than I. Our peer groups never intersected; our interests never aligned. They were in high school as I was in primary school, when I reached middle school, they were in college beginning their adult lives. I had to navigate growing up, peer relationships, and life experiences against the complexity of a Facial Difference on my own. My parents did a remarkable job navigating family needs and my medical condition in a time when support for someone with a similar circumstance was not available. One thing my family could not prepare me for was meeting a harsh and critical society. Being called a monster or ugly was nice compared to the litany of other inappropriate names I have been called in public and while attending school. I clued into the reactions Herman and his family received from others outside the family. Their experiences patterned one of four themes: The Idiot, The Fear-mongering Monster, The Freak-show Exhibit, and The Genuine Person. Each of these themes resonated with me in my non-sitcom life.
The Idiot is most impactful in our society today. In school I was the clumsy kid navigating my sensory deficits without hearing, vision, or balance systems on my left side, trying and failing at team games or sports, always being picked last. Looking different while growing up, Social Currency in the schoolyard was gained by whoever made the most cruel and insensitive joke at my expense. In Elementary School, I was befriended by someone new, invited to their peer group thinking acceptance had shifted. I was invited only to be laughed at, teased mercilessly, and given the nickname “Elephant Man.” They drew pleasure in contorting their expressions to match my facial paralysis, stumbling around matching my unsuccessful trials to catch a ball or activities people take for granted. The harsh lesson I learned is be very selective with friendships and trust I place in others authenticity. In contrast to today’s Political Correctness growing up in the ‘70s and ‘80s it was about silently taking your lumps and suffering this routine abuse while your Tough Shit Card got another stamp. I am confident my card is larger with more stamps than most. Culturing my own “true grit” means no tear-jerking sympathy, or being pissed at the world, A stigmatizing bias of our society is if someone looks different, they are intellectually challenged and inferior to others. I call total organic bullshit on this. In school no Occupational Therapy or support services were available for the ugly clumsy kid trying to cultivate a healthy self-identity on my own, fighting to keep from misclassification to Special Ed by school administrators who knew no better. I am a college graduate, I was not top of my class, I did my best being jerked out of school yearly for 4-6 weeks of reconstructive surgery and recovery. Mind you, this was not nip-tuck fix a teeny boo-boo outpatient day surgery in a posh spa, it routinely clocked in at 7-9 hours unconscious on the slab. It was wreck your hairstyle, split your scalp open from ear to ear, cut your facial skeleton apart with a bone saw, rearrange the pieces and build new ones from bone, skin, and cartilage harvested from other areas. With a world-renowned surgeon’s skill and mastery, bone was wired in place and the skin sutured back together like the cover of a baseball. Compression bandaged up, oozing, tubes everywhere, throbbing with every heartbeat, swollen, and all putrid colors of bruising, incidentally, yes this goddamned hurt. It was painful, a difficult burden for me and for my parents. It was time in the ICU, a week in hospital and my parents had it no better arranging pre-op Cranial-Facial board consultations, x-rays, castings, photographs, and scheduling follow up care. We endured a flurried stressful teaching surgical consultation in a large room with 40 silently observing surgical residents as my intimate medical history, diagrams, gory operative photos and x-rays discussed and laid raw and bare for all to witness. Following the stress of a child in surgery, it was days at the hospital and nights in a motel. It was “survival mode.”
As scars are present on the outside, the psychological scars inflicted by society can be even more raw and garish. People taken at face value and made fun of because of appearance is a permitted unspoken societal ill. Comedians, hiring managers, people of influence, and others think discounting someone is harmless and acceptable. (1) While Federal Labor Law protections exists prohibiting job discrimination based on multiple criteria, no protections exist for disqualifying a job applicant based on appearance bias as had been my experience several times. I can’t very well go to HR department of my “inclusive” technology company and say I didn’t get the job or was passed over for promotion because they have a problem with my appearance. Validating their deficient logic Hiring Managers and decision makers think they are “helping” by shielding me from others or others from me. They may see a face that looks different, but there is no reckoning for this insulting, and unacceptable discrimination. When perpetuated this fails to evolve a society. Recent advances in inclusion do not equate to acceptance for all. As societies consciousness turns to discrimination, awareness and inclusion for individuals with a Facial Difference has failed to advance. My choice would be to be treated justly as a normal person. A normal person that has overcome a lot, cultured a “true grit” to challenge discrimination asking the question, who really is the idiot?
The Fear-Mongering Monster. Fear that a person who looks different is indeed a monster who will harm, scare, and frighten others out of misunderstanding or perceived sinister motives. Throughout history, we have been conditioned that differences conjure fear and fright from the “unclean” suffering God’s wrath in biblical times, to the current depiction in media and literature. Peoples perception is taken at face value, you are always able to easily spot the antagonist, villain, criminal, mentally unstable, or purveyor of evil deeds as the person who looks different. As you observe Herman Munster’s relationship with others, his good intentions become clear but in life we don’t have an omniscient view of a person. What makes up our first impression is what we witness in the initial transnational moment with someone. As this is difficult or impossible to change, think of how you meet someone new, the “I’m OK, Your OK” gestalt at work you usually share eye contact, a pleasant smile and warmth. This is never my experience meeting new people. To some degree I see the smile instantly change to a quizzical glance of uncertainty until the shock is processed, and the person stumbles to a new normal. Filtered through this altered lens of society has made for difficult reconciliation of hard lessons and questions of why societal norms do not apply to me through no fault of my own.
The Freak-Show Exhibit. Just like Herman Munster, sometimes I feel like a curious specimen to be examined by others, with lack of human emotion and essence of humanity. Unlike staring at an inanimate statue, I a living thinking emotionally intelligent and feeling person with a soul would like to know what implicit right is granted to others that makes this acceptable behavior? In college, I worked as a cashier in a defunct chain supermarket. In the 90’s Handy-Andy was a truly scum-hole grocery store that didn’t have price scanners. I unloaded your cart and keyed in the price, setting items on the counter for bagging. This provided ample opportunity for the stare down. Shoppers were from a community that was not affluent, lacking social refinement and educational opportunity. This led to a brash line of questioning: “Hey, what happened to you?” or “Were you in an accident?” and the ultimate gut puncher “What happened to your face?” Yes, these questions were asked, yes, they are horrible questions, and no this is not what you ask someone you don’t know. These questions would hit unexpectedly and were especially heinous because they were after concluding a series of major reconstructive surgeries. Psychologically you cannot live a pleasant life if you are preoccupied with a defensive canned response at the ready. Just once, if I had not been caught off-guard, I would have liked to have expanded their thinking, bring attention to the brutality their words cause, their lack of consideration, of basic human dignity and respect for others. Sometimes through misdirection and for my own self-preservation I would avoid the questions altogether.
The Real Genuine Person. As life is not all gloom and doom, there are remarkable people among us that are the real deal, you instantly know it when you experience them. They see beyond the physical and instantly connect with you human to human. They truly switch it up, its the “You’re OK, I’m OK” gestalt putting others first. This would be similar to what you expect from a church, people united for a common purpose and belief in the divinity of the person and gifts of the spirit. It is a relationship of hope, of a higher calling, and being genuine that should be the goal for all to strive for. It is the continued practiced belief there is good in all people as there is God in all people. When someone makes this effort they rise above exceptional seeing beyond the superficial. With these people seeing me as a person, I don’t mind answering their questions, they have great insight, wisdom and strength of character. I will gladly share my story as I embrace the noble cause of making the world a better place for people like me with a level road so that none shall stumble. Let me share two examples. I was at a big-box store looking for an item when a man brought his two children to the same aisle I was at. One child noticed me and asked the question why does that man look different. What I saw was truly inspiring, as the man stopped what he was doing, got down on his knees to the child’s level and explained he did not know my circumstances, and explained I may look a little different like you don’t look exactly like your brother, and that is OK as everyone is different. It just so happened I was putting my things into my car and he came out of the store and was parked right next to me. I thanked him for his rare example of care and compassion in handling this situation. As I handed him some cash which he was reluctant to take, I asked him to do me the favor of taking his family out for ice cream as a way of saying thanks. Another incident happened recently when at a local restaurant where you order at the counter and they bring your food to the table. I was in front of a family and the kids notice me and start to stare. I place my order and take my seat, the husband takes the kids to go get a seat as the wife handles the order. They sit near my table. The husband plugs into his phone for some escapism. As the younger kid about 6 continues to stare at me incessantly they tap their older sibling and point at me. The older child also stares and makes the comment “What’s that guys problem, why does that guy look so ugly?” as dad provides no response, and continues to screw around with his phone.
There is a state of grace I have come to realize, in all things be thankful, but it’s OK to not be thankful for all things. I don’t know why what happened to me happened, and when I die this tops my “Questions to Ask God list.” Now even in the quiet moments of reflection today, God has been silent, and distant, despite my prayers for strength, understanding, direction, and acceptance when times get unbearable. This is my struggle each day, a sort of “Daily Bread” we ask our divine creator to grant us. Sometimes its whole, enriching, and nourishing, other times it’s rancid, unfulfilling, moldy and tough to swallow. It is the realization and frustration that the tolerance experienced by the few are the exception and not the rule. We are asked that our trespasses be forgiven as we forgive those who trespass against us.
How does The Munsters square in the real-world with someone who has a Facial Difference? Since wearing a mask in public, a noticeable thing is happening. In the community, the stares and inquisitive looks seem to be lessening. People who tap each other, whisper, or gesture in my direction seems to be going away for the moment. I am not a shrinking violet who scurries for the shadows, I demand an experience-rich life, I expect the same acceptance as everyone else. I have had a blast at Karaoke, taken and performed Short Form Improv, commanded the stage as a storyteller, participated and led various civic organizations and church functions. I use my talents for a better world. I have a wonderful family, a few good friends and an amazing fiancé now my beautiful wife to share my life with. Despite the challenges I have been dealt I have cultivated a warm genuine and bombastic personality with an amazing and complex sense of humor. I am a darn good self-taught photographer. I am a success at my career, and not only do I deserve and expect the same opportunity as everyone else, but I also demand it. I long for a society in which attachments to looks are secondary to the qualities of the person within. When was the last time you saw someone who looked different in that print or video ad for the new car, food, clothing or gadget? When was the last time you saw an article like this in Vogue, Allure, or Vanity Fair? My guess is it’s too radical for the coffin dodgers at the editorial board. I am a unique person and strive to make the most of life and live each day for the blessing it is. I am hoping this article has enlightened you, and that it promotes a clearer understanding. If there is a single point I would like to make is that I hope this is a time of societal transcendence, acceptance in being who we are, how we are, and the way we wish to be.
*”Facial Difference” This is the politically correct descriptive term. It replaces “Facial Disfigurement”, ” Facial Deformity” and “Birth Defect.” Outside of a clinical setting these terms are considered highly offensive, and should never be used as a descriptive quality to refer to someone.
(1) Conan O’Brien (comedian) Tweet: “It’s almost like Mitch McConnell behaves the way he thinks a guy with a face like that should behave.” tweeted 1/3/2021 11:48AM. At that time approximately 30k people liked the tweet, and 2k people retweeted this.
(C) 2021, 2024 This work of Mark Charbonneau is copyrighted and may not be republished, repurposed or included with other written works without the express written permission of the author. Inquires may be made via the contact form.
Twenty-twenty has been quite a year. I know we all say that every year however this year can’t go supernova fast enough. No need to restate the obvious crappification of 2020. I will put a different spin on the year and the holiday season, so it’s story time…
It’s Advent Season when we reflect and prepare our hearts for Christmas. Most self-respecting department stores start throwing up the decorations the day after Halloween which I consider a “gateway holiday.” The overhead music changes. You have the old standard songs, Bing Crosby’s White Christmas, Burl Ives Holly Jolly Christmas. You bust out the modern twist Mannheim Steamroller Christmas and rock out to some Trans-Siberian Orchestra. Heck even Thurl Ravencroft’s You’re a Mean One (Mr. Grinch) makes the playlist with Brenda Lee’s Rocking Around the Christmas Tree.
For years there was one Christmas song that would unglue me, I would react to with such a vile and irrational disgust. Hearing it was like the worst sound imaginable that gets on your nerves, such as rustling plastic bags, or nails on chalkboard cranked up to eleven. That song was “Happy Xmas (War is Over)” by John Lennon. I would consider it a successful year if I did not have to hear the whole song to completion, and would actively change the radio station, hum something different, lick a candy cane to a sharp point and jam it in my good ear, whatever would work to survive and endure this feat of hellish tortured circumstance forced upon me.
Fear not, my extreme Grinch tendencies are reformed, as now I respect the simple prose and thought-provoking big ideas John Lennon put forth so many years ago. “So this is Christmas, and what have you done, another year over and a new one just begun.” I had to ask myself why does the apathetic and accusatory self-examination, introspection and judgement the opening line evokes contrasts with the joyful bombastic happiness we expect this time of year? It’s because the contrast is uncomfortable. Instead of outward joy and jubilation it demands something more of us, considering the perpetual speed of the years seems to increase as we get older. Gone are the days of childhood reckless abandon, ping ponging from one festive packaging to the next, with wide-eyed innocence and wonder as sleep deprived parents sit on the couch and take in the joyous memories, they are creating to recall years later spurred on by a photograph, itself changing in colors once bright but now dulled and hazy. Now are the days of independence, parents, getting older, and loss of people near to us either through their passing or relationship changes. Lennon calls for us to examine the faith within ourselves.
Most artists remaster their music some years later and may change things a bit. I think if John Lennon were alive today the song would remain unchanged as the struggles of the time it was written are sadly still opportunities for improvement today in the 2020s. Written in the turbulent and polarizing time of the Vietnam engagement and civil rights movement, a raw 1971 snapshot in time still sadly echoes true today. It’s a report card, and we have not done well these years. Race relations, racial injustice and religious inequality have been a flashpoint of a nation and world that should have come together, now is becoming more deeply divided than ever. There is a lot of fear, as COVID knew no race, or religion, age or political affiliation, or economic standings. The economic inequality will still be present, the rich will get richer as the poor get poorer and the middle class deals with it all. Migration, equal and personal rights and freedoms, intolerance, and human dignities are all sacrificial pawns in a vicious game. Add to this the threat of our democratic political system held captive by a self-serving and self-centered narcissist with insurrectionist tendencies, weaseling his way through denying accountability equates to some tough sledding.
Yet in a song that asks us to ponder inequity from economic standings, geopolitical unrest, and especially racial injustice, it lights a candle of hope in its choral refrain, wishing you a Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year, with an optimistic “hope it’s a good one.” A warmth, glowing and longing hope that lies in each of us. A hope to value what is really important and make the right choices. Being with family and cherishing the time we spend together this Christmas though socially and sometimes geographically distanced by miles or by imposed hardships on each other. It’s time to remember and support the families and each other who have lost loved ones. It’s time to silence political and personal divides, find common ground, find tolerance with compassion, and embrace your fellow persons. It’s time to rekindle understanding, peace, love, and tolerance that may have diminished inside us. A time to say you love someone, you miss someone, you care about someone, and you are sorry for the sadness actions may have caused. You never know when you may never see, touch, feel, speak with, and be able to hold a loved one close again. The key to which is in each of us. “War is over if you want it, war is over now.”
And so, Happy Christmas, Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas, and here is to a better new year let’s hope it is a good one without any fears.
The coronavirus has clearly made a mess of life as we know it. Add to that the examples of humanity being terrible to each other in the US and a political system that has provided stark polarization to the nation. The creativity that used to fuel a lot of passions has evaporated as our world has become fragile and more fragmented.
In short there are a lot of people hurting, and we have lost the general sense of compassion. Yes we were not a perfect society, but with a trend to isolation, we have lost our softer side. Add to that the media divisiveness and it’s frustrating. I love a good conspiracy theory as much as the next guy but I think China is at fault, and the motivation behind it was to level the global economy. They had a problem, they did not contain it, saw an opportunity and let it rip. The tax war, and the intellectual property war has taken its toll and China saw this as a lever to use to their advantage and it was all a numbers game A country with 1 Billion (with a B) people is a calculated risk against less populous countries.
This global reset is awful, it will take some time to recover, and life as we knew it has made another cyclical change. This unrest has unfortunately opened societal wounds. Race Relations in the US were not great but have returned to center stage. Yes US has a systemic issue, and unfortunately like an alcoholic that is in recovery, the enabling factor may not be there, but the behavior habits are still intact.
Oh yea… Facebook… I have not been on Facebook since March… I would go there for a quick trip each month to drop off my payload of pictures, and check a few groups and scram. I am sure the political and hysteria is up to a frenzied 11, and I will wait for it to blow over. Time is too important to squander on feeding the algorithms.
The Olympus EM1 Mark II has a feature called Live Composite. It will allow you to take a single shot which forms the basis of the picture and over time it will add new light to the picture. It was dark when I started. Get the settings or picture you like, click the shutter and the images are composited.
Spending the last weekend of 2019 with my sweetie Jen, we had to find something to do. Austin has its charm on South Congress or “SoCo” for you non-locals. Street Photography is an absolute blast! While I had the Oly ready to go, I decided to run the Lumix (Bridge Camera) DMC-FZ200. It’s 25-600 f 2.8 lens got the job done! One thing to do is use the Art settings. I slipped it into Black and White and brought it with me. A stop at Jo’s Coffee to capture an unexpected patron.
The picture was captured in Black & White, no processing, cropping, or manipulation other than what the camera preset allows. Knowing your gear has an amazing benefit.
Remember in childhood you got that constant reminder of “Eat your vegetables” Unfortunately we ‘mericans don’t eat as many veggies as we should, as French Fries don’t count… For about the last year I have been eating my veggies with the help of a company that used to be called Imperfect Product which has now moved into a name change called Imperfect Foods. Let’s take a look..
Imperfect Foods is a subscription service where you choose produce, foods, and cooking essentials that get shipped to your door for $4.99 per delivery. You set up for a weekly or bi-weekly subscription. On your delivery week a few days before your delivery day, you select from their website the foods or products you would like, adjust their quantity, add, an delete them with clickable ease. You can learn about the produce, where it comes from and what makes it “imperfect”.
The big question: Do you get the nasty bottom of the bin farmer’s accident vegetables? NOPE! In my 26+ shipments, I have received only 1 onion that was a bit rough and still usable, and a single shipping issue.
What’s “imperfect” about Imperfect Foods?
Millions of tons of food get discarded every year because they do not meet your local supermarkets definition of a product they sell, it could be shape, size, a color, or a superficial scar. This means after the farmers have spent the resources bringing the food to harvest, it is refused, unsold, and is tilled under. The solution is Imperfect Produce which pays the farmer for the food, and offers it for your purchase at a great price.
What is the upshot of Imperfect Produce?
Convenience, I do no have to pick and choose produce at the local supermarket saving me considerable time. This is the big thing. I get my fruits and veggies, and no need to take additional time to wander the produce section. Very competitively priced, its a win win!
Try Imperfect Foods, score $10.00 savings on the Charb.
http://imprfct.us/v/Mark_425
Using a macro lens to look at things closer you often do not appreciate the engineering that goes into each product we use everyday.
Twine. Threads of fiber that are twisted together and gain strength from their numbers. See how symetrical they are wound?
And finally Blue Jeans…
I can’t believe this was almost a year ago September 14, 2019. Time flies and that &*($=% Rona Virus has ruined everything. This post was hanging in my drafts folder since last year. When one needs to have a creative release, it’s time to get a few things updated.
‘Another fun weekend in Central Texas and there is so much to do… One item worth doing for Jen and I was the Cactus Choir. KUT, 90.5 the local NPR station advertised the event. Jen and I headed down to the the legendary Cactus Cafe on the UT campus. I thought this would be a larger venue but it was adequate for the crowd. Arriving early, time to get some adult singing water, or liquid courage and take a seat.
The organizer Julia of Rock-It Choir is what happens when singing meets life coach and a unique business service is born. The song for today’s event was Don’t Go Breaking My Heart by Elton John. The key to this being fun is the name of the song isn’t revealed to the attendees prior to the event to keep people from planning ahead. The video was played and the learning began. We were arranged into one of three groups for each voice type for the song which was broken down verse by verse for each part. Each part was featured and one group would lead for a part and other groups would back the other group. Clearly this took some homework to arrange. A keyboardist provided the music. The lyrics were color coded for each group on the projector. This was a lot of fun. I was going to do some photography for this at the next event but things got canceled… Perhaps when normal returns it can start again.
Here is our crowd fun. I recorded it on my phone and used GarageBand to sweeten up the track a bit.
It is so hot outside, its time for inside creativity. Recently I purchased a 30mm M.Zuiko Macro Photography lens and have found it to be an absolute blast! Enjoy my first efforts! Clicking on a picture will bring you to the gallery and allow you to click through the images. Next up is to use Focus Stacking.
Friday evening is my creative night. To have some balance I designated Friday Evening for creative pursuits. It gives me something to look forward to at the end of the week and like going to the gym its flexing those creative muscles. This week I created another Real American Hero parody commercial. This time celebrating the folks you see standing on the corner flipping signs enticing you to a new storage center, neighborhood or to get your taxes done. Enjoy!
I think I know funny, and I dusted off a project I did years ago when the “Real American Hero” radio ad campaign was popular for Bud Light beer. It was a simple narrative with a backup singer call and response for things like Hawaiian Shirt Designer Guy. With my new Mac mini having the latest GarageBand software which has improved a lot, I decided to remaster it. I found the music bed by Paul Young, juiced the track up a bit, and re-recorded the audio. Perhaps I will create a few more, as I have a few ideas… already writing my next one…
I have always grown up with cameras. Cameras were something always around with my family. Mom and Dad had a photo album of black and white pictures, and then when color prints started to be practical there was a definite shift of pictures.
When I was young, it was in the times where you could run around the neighborhood, cruise your BigWheel up and down the sidewalk, and you were not afraid to meet and talk to people. One day I was walking up the sidewalk and saying hi to someone up the block who was cleaning out their garage, they were going through their odds and ends. and they came across a GAF camera. It was tan, leather textured plastic on the bottom and had a dull matte metal finish on the top. It had a peephole viewfinder which was a bit hazy and it took 126 cartridge film. Informing my parents someone had given me a camera, after inspection a 12 exposure role of film was purchased. Pictures of family, friends, and the family dog were taken, and the cartridge was sent off for developing. It took a week for photos to be returned. Yes there was a time when you had to wait for photos to be returned.
Camera Collection… Since then I have had a ton of cameras throughout the years. a Kodak Ektrachrome 110, a Kodak Disc Camera, a variety of 35mm film camera, starting with point and shoot, up to the Rebel series. the original Rebel I purchased from a camera store. I had a Rebel 2000, and went digital in 2004 with a Canon Rebel Xti with a whopping 12 Megapixel sensor. Each camera I had I basically would hit the edge of what it was capable of. I had moved through the Canon 60D which lives in my photo booth now, and a Canon 7D. Armed with a bunch of lenses to do all sorts of stuff I got quite good… really good. Even got published.
Canon Failed to Innovate… As technology moved forward I found the Canon system not keeping pace with the industry. Having to decide if it is worth an upgrade or a platform change. I mean a ton of good glass, and over 20,000 pictures in my catalog and 30 years of Canon experience is a lot to consider. Well… going to our local camera store to see what is out there, I discovered mirrorless. Originally wanting to up my game with a full-frame something,
Olympus Nirvana. I test drove a Panasonic Lumix. The camera was awesome but just could not really get used to the software. I then looked at a used Olympus OM-D EM1 Mark II. Nirvana!! Seriously!! It was freaking great! The camera was light, it felt good to hold, it was bright, the software made sense, it was solid, it is pro gear. My practical sense kicked in and I decided to purchase a used camera with a pro 12-40mm 2.8 and a pro75, F 1.8. This was a solid choice! It is making photography fun again. Olympus is a solid company. Recently I went to the local camera store when they held an Olympus Experience Weekend. Actually got the camera firmware updated, the camera and sensor cleaned, and additional missing parts replaced without cost. That’s awesome for a company to stand behind their products like that. Not to mention delivering a killer firmware update for the last 3 years running.