Day Four: Stella Redux
Day Four: Stella Redux
(Check out the shot onblack)
ok, since Hunny says that day 3 lacks details. I’m redoing the shot for her(Oh yes, I try to please my audience*winkwinknudgenudge*). I wasn’t planning on marking it as Day Four. But since they involve different techniques,with the previous one involving some very intense flashlight-fu(copyright pending) and a lot of aperture tweaking. I might as well mark this as Day Four.
I was planning on doing a shot where the outline of the bottle is highlighted with a rim light, black seamless background, and a light shining through the bottle. Alas, I have only one speedlight, no umbrella or anything, just a stofen to diffuse my 580exII. But hey, overall I think it works ok.
Equipment used:
- Canon 50D with 24-70mm F/2.8 mounted
- Canon 580exII Speedlight
- Black cartolina as background
- Lenovo Thinkpad as my lightstand
- A bottle of Stella Artois as subject
P.S. I would also like to thank yesterday’s bottle for acting as stand-in for today’s bottle while I was doing some light tests. Without you, I wouldn’t be able to get that frosty look.
P.P.S. In case you’re curious what my “studio” looks like. Here it is!
My Pathetic Studio
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Day Three: Cheers Over a Cold One
(Check out the shot oblack)
Going for a minimalist look here. Hope it works.
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…
(Couldn’t think of an apt title)
My mind races, my body aches. I find it mildly funny and ironic that my happy place right now is the gym. I get lost with my thoughts there. A place where you tend to be around people, but alone at the same time. A place to think, or a place where you don’t need to think. A place where you can just slap on your earphones and think. Or if your mood suits it, just concentrate on getting that last rep in.
I’m in my usual bout of something. I can’t think of the proper thing to call it. Depression? Self-loathing? Quarter-life crisis? I don’t really know. I think I’m just tired. Yeah, it’s that usual line again. Tired of having to show that everything’s ok, that I’m happy, that my life is going where I want it.
For once, I wish I could be as selfish, that I can just stop trying to please everyone. To just stop thinking about what others might think.
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Day Two: And They Were All Yellow
(Check out the shot onblack)
Net connection’s out at home. I’m at Momo’s to post this, so here’s a quick one before I head off for the gym.
Decided on a color theme today and guess what color it is! Actually went through a lot of different theme ideas, from interior design shots, to self-portrait. But couldn’t come up with anything interesting. Hope you guys like this.
P.S. You can see in the shot where Pipboy jumped from.
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Day 1: Pipboy
(Check out the shot onblack)
Since my Model/Sexy Assistant/Tripod(more like a Bipod) is in the US, Pipboy gladly volunteered for today’s shoot. I asked Pipboy to stand on the ledge and strike me his best smile. At first the plan was to get the Hyatt Hotel lights for interesting bokeh, unfortunately the whole positioning for it was mind boggling( would’ve been easier if I could fly) and so I decided to use the street lamps for background instead.
Lighting was done with a 580exII off-camera, bounced on the wall and triggered by a Cactus V2(I don’t have money for pocket wizards). It was a cheap-assed attempt at being a strobist since the location was really small, and I didn’t have any other equipment(would’ve loved a softbox here to soften up the light). A lightstand would’ve been ideal, but I don’t have one either. What I did was point the flash using my left hand, and tried to balance my camera with my right(you should’ve seen me, it was funny).
Sigh…. I had big hopes for my little Pipboy. I was planning on asking him to model for me across different locations. I was going to shoot him at Eastwood, maybe infront of Manor before he goes to a party. We were going to travel around the world!! But I guess the fame and fortune tied to it was enough to send him over the edge, literally. After about 5 shots of me asking him to move around, he got tired of it all, he couldn’t handle the pressure. So I now say bye bye to you Pipboy, it was good while it lasted.
RIP Pipboy
Or I might’ve accidentally pushed him off the ledge…
Even at death he can still smile. I will miss you Pipboy
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Photography Project
I’m a big fan of Dustin Diaz’s flickr photostream. On his blog, he has a project called Project 365. His aim is to post a picture every day for a year. And he is currently at day 113.
Inspired by the photographs he takes, I’ve decided to do the same thing. I know I’m not at his same skill level, but this would help me improve my style, and at the same time get the best out of my SLR.
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What’s in my bag?
Bored out of my wits today with nothing to do, so I decided to play the “What’s in your laptop bag?” game.
click on the image for breakdown of items
so that’s what’s normally in my bag. Here’s a breakdown:
- Victorinox Stockholm Bi-fold wallet (I’ve been using the same wallet for the past 5 years)
- Jetflash 4GB thumb drive attached to a miniature Wii controller
- USB to mini USB cable
- Shure in-ear earphones
- Nokia N95 8GB
- Parker Retractable Ballpen (Gift from Joe-e)
- Red Sharpie (I left my black one at the office)
- Spare Biomedics disposable contact lenses for emergencies (I like them better than optix2, they’re thinner and softer)
- Swiss Army Classic Perfume (or Dunhill Xcentric)
- Oakley A-Wire Sunglasses (Same one as Hunny’s)
- Logitech V270 Bluetooth Mouse
- Work issued Lenovo T61
- Car keys
- Kensington laptop lock
- Case Logic messenger bag
Missing would be:
- House keys
- Black Sharpie
- Corona graphed notebook
- Multi-card reader
- 8gb iPod Touch
- iPod cable
- Bath and Body Works Vanilla Cinnamon Lotion
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Food!
Yay! My parents, together with my younger sister, left for New York yesterday. They’ll be visiting my older sister for a month. So what do you do when you’re home alone?
Nope, I don’t walk around the house naked (hmm, I think I’ll go try that later). I COOK MY OWN FOOD!!! I haven’t had the chance to cook my food in a while, partly because my mom has a rule wherein nobody touches her kitchen aside from her. But now that she’s away, well, Aldwin will cook!(and take pictures of course)
I found this recipe for Rosemary Lamb Chops from the Cooking for Engineers website. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find lamb chops anywhere so I substituted Pork Chops instead.
The recipe consists of equal parts pineapple orange juice. I have canned pineapple juice so that works. Orange juice, I was lucky enough that Robinson’s sells freshly squeezed orange juice. Slightly expensive at 150/half liter, but they have a machine that squeezes the oranges right in front of you. So I guess the price comes with entertainment tax.
The herbs used were Thyme and a bit of Rosemary. The website calls for fresh Rosemary, but I used dried ones instead since the grocery doesn’t carry fresh ones(I might have been just lazy though).
A bit of garlic and onions, plus the requisite salt and pepper, and voila! I have dinner!
I made some minor mistakes here and there. Like I should have cooked the pork in low heat first before cranking up the temp to get the sear. I was cooking it at high heat like the website says, I failed to consider that the chops I was using were thicker. The outcome was a slightly more brown chops than I would’ve opted for. (Now that I reread the recipe again, it says to slow cook the meat with a bit of the marinade if it’s thicker. DOH!)
Another thing to note is the sauce. The sauce is a reduction of the marinade used for the pork. Try not to over reduce it since the pineapple juice and the orange juice are both a bit sour, reducing it too much produced an extremely sharp sauce. It kinda worked but I would have wanted it to be a bit less tangy. I added in butter to the sauce. why? well to make it a bit more manly I guess! Rosemary Pork Chops is such a girly name and nothing butches a dish up like adding butter in it(If only I could have worked out how to add a bit of bacon, I would’ve been happier)
The recipe calls for fresh rosemary. I agree, picking rosemary out of your dish is a bit tedious. It would have been better to have used fresh rosemary with the stem, so I could have taken it out.
Aside from the pork, I made a bit of mashed potatoes with big potato lumps. The potatoes were absolutely delicious (partly due to half a stick of butter I added into it). Although it would be better if I had some sour cream to top it. The sour cream would’ve complimented the pork as well.
Overall I’m quite happy with dinner. It was a bit too much for me( 3 chops when 2 would’ve been enough) but I was able to gobble them all up. Next time I have to remember to open a window. I can still smell the food.
Verdict: Next time, I’m eating out. Clean up’s a bitch.
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I fucking hate weddings…
Yes, I fucking hate weddings! I hate them with the same effing passion I normally reserve for motorcycle drivers.
Yes, this is going to be a long post.
I just got back home from the 2nd wedding I had to attend this month. Slow month I guess, on June/December season I usually go to two weddings a week. Yes, I go to a LOT of weddings, averaging at around 30/year.
This actually started when I got my driver’s license. My dad can’t drive, and I’m the only one nice enough to drive him to weddings he has to attend. For the uninformed, the reason my dad gets invited to a lot of weddings is that in the chinese community in Manila, when one of your kids gets married, you invite everyone and their dog too. It’s a chance to show off I guess. And once someone invites you to a wedding, you have to invite them to your kid’s wedding too. Everyone gets invited, even people you don’t really know, even people that just got a whiff of your fart.
I remember my sister’s wedding. It was supposed to be a small wedding, because that was what my sister wanted. It started out with 30 tables(yes, we count by the number of tables. Think of it as 1 table == 10pax) which eventually ballooned to 60 tables, which eventually ballooned by another 20 tables come wedding day. I was going around saying hi to people I had no clue how I’m related to. I actually got reprimanded by one of the guests for not giving her tea . YES I GOT MISTAKEN FOR A WAITER AT MY OWN SISTER’S WEDDING!
I’ve been to enough weddings and I’m fucking tired of them. So I’ve made a list of signs that you probably go to more weddings than what’s healthy:
- For the wedding proper, you automatically know what to wear (barong or suit) based on what church you’re going to.
- Upon entering the reception venue, you have a strategic map of all the restrooms in your head. This is very useful when you have to go for a happy landing and looking for a low traffic comfort room
- You have an escape, err excuse me, an exit route for when you have to leave early
- You play the game “is the bride … or she isn’t?”. you go to too many weddings, if start keeping a record of your batting average.
- You can identify the photographer/videographer from the pre-nup shots. A worse variation of this is that all videos/presentations feels like deja vu
- You know how much the food you’re eating costs. You’ve actually memorized the menu and knows what got changed for what.
- The wedding coordinators say hi to you. Worse if they can automatically say if you’re there for the groom’s side or the bride’s side.
- Applies only to guys, your formal wear gets better mileage than your car (the suit I usually wear is at 2000/use. I’m hoping I could bring it down to below a thousand.)
So why do I hate weddings? I’ll take this last wedding as an example.
The reception takes too freaking long! The invite says 7 and you feed me at 9 fucking pm. If you even call that feeding. You gave me a fucking salad and you forget the dressing. Another 30 mins before the soup arrives, then you forget my fish! everyone around me is busy stuffing their mouth with food, and what do I have? my freaking table napkin. It would somehow do for now, if only you remembered my salad dressing.
Weddings are boring. I don’t have any complaint if the wedding I’m attending is for someone I personally know. But when I go with my dad, I SIT AT THE FREAKING OLD PEOPLE TABLE! I don’t know anyone, or they’re too old for me to talk to. Then they start with the speeches. Daddy speeches, sister/brother speeches, friend’s speeches, those are ok. But when they start to call some bigshot guest to give a speech, just to show off how “big time” they are? HELP ME!
Then there’s another torture. Waiter puts down a bottle of alcohol in front of you. To make the boredom pass, nothing would beat taking a swig out of the bottle. But I can’t!!! fuck. even taking a sniff out of the bottle was enough for me to get angry weird stares from my father. Followed by a “you’re driving” statement. Ok, no alcohol for me tonight. Worse is that everyone around you is getting so fucking blasted.
BAD FOOD! yes the newlyweds are paying a huge amount for the food. But I can’t help but think about food from the eng’g canteen when trying to swallow whatever was served.
The Questions. My features are distinctly my dad’s. Anyone who knows my dad can easily tell that I’m his son without introduction. My problem is that my dad is “friendly”. A lot of people knows him. So when I have to go to the restroom(with my carefully planned route), I get stopped at every other table. What questions am I talking about? here’s a list:
- You’re *dad’s name*’s son right? — Yeah, here’s a star for you. Now let go of my fucking arm, I don’t even know you and I need to pee.
- Where do you go to school? — I sure do look my age, in fact I look older. So are you somehow assuming that I’m stupid and haven’t graduated?
- From the previous, of course I answer that I’ve graduated. “Where do you work?” — even if I tell you, you wouldn’t have a clue anyway
- if they DO know the company I work for the next question would be “I have a broken laptop/desktop/etc. Do you think you can repair it for me?” or “I want an XX model laptop, do you think I can get a discount?” — I DID NOT WASTE 4 YEARS OF COLLEGE + 6 YEARS OF EXPERIENCE TO BE YOUR FUCKING REPAIR MAN! NOR AM I A FUCKING SALESMAN
- Next question “How much do you earn?” — None of your business. How would you feel if I ask you how much YOU earn?
If they don’t ask questions they make some other statement. Before, it was “you look so much like your dad!” Then followed by “how old are you?”, when I was younger the follow up statement was “I remember when you were small, now you’re a lot bigger! you need to go on a diet!”(look at the mirror first fatty). Now that i’m older, it’s usually “are you married?”, I answer “no”. it’s then followed by “you should be married! You have to meet my sister’s friend’s daughter’s bestfriend”. DO I LOOK LIKE I”M LOOKING?!? Worse is that once you go back to your table, they’ve made it their personal mission to set you up with someone. They go follow you back to your table asking for your phone number or with an entire list of numbers for you.
YOU HAVE TO BE FUCKING POLITE! even if the person with you on the table already had 3 rolls and on his way to his 4th(which happens to be the last) and you still haven’t gotten any. Or when that lady keeps bumping on your head on her way to make chismis. Or that kid that makes it his personal mission to pass out from screaming too much. YOU CAN”T DO ANYTHING! you have to be extremely polite. You can’t risk offending anyone. Believe me, these people have loooooong memories and they spread chismis like that guy was spreading butter on his rolls.
I can’t quite hate the garter game. Not because I like joining it. But because, somehow I’ve always managed to gracefully exit the reception area just as the emcee starts calling the names of the people that needs to join. I’ve only done it once and was lucky enough to get away or maybe unlucky, they gave iPods to the couple that won.
Well not everything about weddings are bad. Here’s a couple of highlights from the wedding tonight:
- Hearing “You and Me” by Lifehouse played by a string quartet
- Seeing all those photography equipment *drool*
- Hearing “Butterfly Kisses” once again. I’ve forgotten about this song I think I’ll go pira… err buy it.
- Coffee and cookies from Manila Hotel
- Maintaining my batting average. I won P100 from my dad for that one. It’s not my fault I know how to look at wedding dresses. Must’ve been all those weddings he forced me to go to.
That’s pretty much it. If you ever invite me to a wedding, make sure you seat me in the far corner away from people. Otherwise I might bite.
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