“I’m worried about Jim” is a phrase that has remained in my memory since childhood, alongside the theme tune, played on a harp, that preceded this regular opening line to “Mrs.Dale’s Diary”. “Mrs.Dale’s Diary” was a radio soap opera that my mother enjoyed and to which I, as a young child, had no choice but to listen with Mother. It appeared to me, even then, that Mrs. Dale had very little to worry about with regard to her husband Jim, who was a highly respected doctor, or indeed anything else in her seemingly idyllic suburban life which, come to think of it, could be a Damon Albarn song which would mean that this post would be a treasure trove of well turned lyrics. But he didn’t so it isn’t. The smell of two stroke mixture together with the coughing and spluttering of an old fashioned outboard motor resisting all efforts to be brought to life is another memory that sits in the vaults and is apposite because it runs parallel to coffee and a computer firing up, which events kick start my coughing and spluttering thought processes. This morning, just after my motor had started, the electricity was unexpectedly turned off for works in the lane outside, and I had to revert to pen and paper. The transition from virtual to reality was reasonably smooth but certainly noticeable . Our appetite for the virtual grows day by day. It is ever more surprising that we have the time or the will to realise our emotions as we seem much more at ease with the virtual. Raw is there but is best disregarded as virtual has the advantage of being vicarious together with the valuable element of being “turn offable”. The relief of seeing others vilified, ridiculed and failing has become an addictive panacea for our own weaknesses whilst we can show our strength, from time to time, by” giving” generously or by joining in mass demonstrations of grief or joy. Long term emotions don’t sell very well. They can be difficult to start and are sometimes quite boring and predictable, so best left well alone. The panel above shows two versions of the same asparagus tart before and after retouching. Even the ends of asparagus have changed size, to add to the apparent deliciousness, using a digital process not unlike the Wonderbra.
This entry was posted in baking, Cooking, Digital photography, Emotion, Food and Photography, Food photographer, harmony, hypocrisy, Illusion, Memory, Photography, photography course, Photography holiday, Reality, Retouching, tart, Uncategorized, Vicarious pleasure, Virtual, Wonderbra, Writing. Bookmark the permalink.