(Currently on foreign assignment in Samoa.)
Sorry, but I'm going to vent a little on this blog of mine. But don't worry, it's nothing offensive--just a case of being at the right place at the wrong time.
It all started this morning when I woke up in my triple-bed hotel room. Walking into the bathroom with no lights on, I literally stepped into the bowl that so graciously represents my toilet. Turning the shower on, my body prepared itself for a rude-awakening--a rush of freezing cold water gushing at my body and all its vital parts. Standing there, I tried to think of happy thoughts, you know, like: eating mom's home cooked meals, taking a dump on a toilet seat, sleeping on a bed that smells like Tide fabric softener, drinking water without having to worry if its purified, or having the luxury of eating at a restaurant with friends--instead of sitting there all alone trying to pretend I'm busy by checking my text messages, returning email, or taking notes when, in actuality, I really have no internet or phone connection. Yeah, I'm a loser, aint' I?
But anyways, that's not why I'm venting, nor is it the subject of my rant. It's really just a microcosm of my male-menstrual cycle snowballing into something much grandeur--much more significant than day dreaming in a cold, frigid shower.
Ultimately, it's a matter of photogenicology--you know, the genetic ability to photographically frame a shot, capture images that bring viewers to the edge of begging for more, the art of making them wish they were there with you--behind the lens, holding your bags or wiping your brow. It's something that I thought I had all along, until today.
Proving myself to be nothing more than a camera-whore with a sex drive of six frames per second, I stood there on that mountain, looking down at one of the most beautiful water falls I've ever seen in my entire-adult life. With my Canon 5D in hand, I mounted a 24-70 lens. Resting her on my brand new-state of the art 6x carbon fiber tripod, I was ready to capture one of the most amazing pictures I'll ever take--from now, til the day I shit on a regular toilet again.
Pressing down on the shutter to get a meter reading, I instantly knew I was doomed. Doomed!
You see, the water fall was situated in a deep under brush--with tree's hovering over it, much like how I hover over my toilet bowl. Directly above it, was the sun, pounding brightly on the tree's covering the water fall. In order to show the magnitude of this waterfall, I had to capture both the waterfall and the trees covering it. But with the sun changing, constantly casting shadows, and sometimes even over blowing both the water and trees, the sun was driving my camera crazy--my camera was driving me insane! I felt like I was going into men-o-pause.
The result: a photo with the waterfall perfectly exposed, but the tree's washed out in white. Or the other way around.
So, there you have it--this is why I'm venting. I was at the right place but at the wrong time (of day). I would've stayed there all night if I could, but my guide suggested we head back before night fall.
I promise you: I'll be back! (Said like Arnold did in T2). Baahhahahahha!!!!! And no, I'm not drunk right now! I blame everything on the bowl...the toilet bowl!