On hands, slowing down, and intentional creations
A letter to paid subscribers about some BTS of photoshoots and making dumplings for the new year.
Hi friends,
My best friend recently took up watercolors as a hobby. It’s surprising, because in the near two decades I’ve known her, I can say that she is not a crafts kind of person. In fact, this is the first time I’ve seen her do any sort of craft; she said that it’s because she needed a hobby that involved hands, away from the screen, so she could slow down. She’s also a federal employee and if you’ve been skimming the US news headlines, you may already know that job security is up in the air. She told me that she anticipates even more watercoloring soon and to expect random cards in the mail.
A “something to do with hands” hobby, I believe, is necessary. I think that as more of our lives get digitized and the bigger digital becomes a presence in our lives, the more people will want to indulge in an analog medium.
What the weekly photo challenge I’ve been doing has done for me, is forced me to notice details. To slow down. To immerse myself in something. I have never spent so much time setting up a single photo in a studio kind of shoot. But my theme of the year is growth and I want to challenge myself: do I actually dislike studio shoots for good reasons or because I don't have enough knowledge about them (therefore, I'm scared to do it)?
For the below photo, which you saw in the last paid essay, I thought of how I wanted the grapes to look, and ended up using a chopstick to keep them in place. I added the cloth later to see if I could create a more luxurious effect.
The red saucer was there to balance out the weight. Immediately in front of this tabletop is another couch, so I actually took the final photos standing on the cushions and hovering behind the couch.
For last week's challenge, something old, I had to learn what focus stacking was. I wanted a regular mirror, like a mini standup kind, but could only find a makeup one. I moved the table so many times, same with the scene itself. I added a plant for shadows, tried to find angles where the camera wasn't capturing its own shadow, and anthropomorphized the egg ("what would the egg want to see?"). And THEN, I spent another hour editing in Photoshop, with lots of help from my partner, because I am not great at PS and it is overwhelming.
Here, the tabletop is halfway over my bed. It took me one hour to get all the photos I needed, during which the light kept changing. It was so tricky to get the tripod to where I wanted it to be, at an angle that made sense (and also didn't reflect sun directly into my lens).
In both the above instances, it was a lot of time dedicated to thinking and creating, which also felt like wasting time, even when it wasn't. I did not pick up my phone unless it was to reference something. I moved things around in increments and powered through a lot of frustrating moments. I think people believe that a creative flow moment is when things come to you in abundance and you create momentous works. For me, it is almost never a constant flow of inspiration, but rather an intentional space and time I've carved out.
I took yesterday off because it was the new year. I made dumplings by hand with a friend. My filling is constantly evolving. This year, I did lamb, chives, scallions from my garden, water chestnuts, and napa cabbage. For a second batch (because there were so many wrappers left), I did brussel sprouts instead of the cabbage and chives. And a lot of seasoning: ginger, garlic, soy sauce, sesame oil, white wine vinegar, and white pepper.
Napa cabbage on left, and lined up bits of green onions, garlic, water chestnuts, ginger, and chives. I did not stack these for a photo, this is how I usually chop.
When I have the time, I enjoy cooking. I like the tactile feel of produce and the alchemy of transforming them into meals. If in the pits of depression, it becomes a heavy chore.
My friend and I have distinctly different folding styles: mine are linear and hers are curved. For a few hours, we chatted, as our hands used spoons to scoop and shape the filling, wetted the wrapper edges, pinched the middle, and pleated the rest. It's a rhythm that I enjoy with others, and for a few hours, I'm okay with the repetition.
The lunar new year is not about resolutions or setting five-year goals. It's an intentional time to spend with loved ones to celebrate and welcome spring. We wish prosperity, wealth, good health, abundance to everyone and ourselves.
If you've also been turning to analog mediums, I'd love to learn more about it.
—Jenn
