Friends, Romans, Lens Me Your Ears

Test Your Eyesight With These Two Shots

Photographs copyright: DAVID McMAHON

This post is a direct result of a challenge from British blogger Imac. He recently threw down the gauntlet when he challenged me to take an unusual photograph of a camera lens. It was just before I flew out to Langkawi and Kuala Lumpur with my family and as soon as I saw his comment, I planned to photograph the famous Petronas Twin Towers reflected in a lens.

How? The simplest way. I always have at least two Sigma lenses with me, an 18-125mm lens and a 70-300mm lens. I figured the best way to do it was to have one of the Authorbloglets point the 300mm lens at the twin towers and for me to use the other lens to photograph the reflection of the towers. It would have been a simple but effective shot.

So there we were, on our way to the towers, when I spotted this unusual sight, a roadside collage comprising several small hexagonal mirrors of different colours. As usual, I trailed the rest of the family by several metres, because I kept stopping to take photographs. As soon as I saw this, I knew it would be perfect for Imac’s challenge.

If you haven’t been able to spot the reflection of my own lens in the photo above, take a look at the shot below and see how quickly you can pick it among the beautiful kaleidoscope of colours.

Incidentally, this sequence of challenges began when Crazy Cath said I’d probably be able to take an artistic shot of a bowl of peas and Maggie May echoed her words before I posted my response, called The Nobel Peas Prize. Immediately afterwards, the Texan blogger Rhea challenged me to photograph garbage (literally) and my response to that was Trash Talk.

I know what you’re thinking. You have a challenge for me, right? Leave a comment and let me know what you want me to shoot….

The Nobel Peas Prize

It Ain’t Easy Being Green

Photographs copyright: DAVID McMAHON

I love a challenge. So when Maggie May paid me a great compliment in early April, I had to live up to her expectations. She said I could probably photograph a simple sight like a bowl of peas and produce a decent image - and Crazy Cath was quick on the uptake, echoing Maggie May's praise.

So a couple of days later, while I was driving home, I pulled over at a fruit-and-vegetable stall to buy a decent serve of peas. The owner happened to mention that they had little cups of specially grown peas. Yeah, I thought, that'll work for me. I had a busy evening ahead of me and I figured buying the shelled peas would save me a lot of time.

I thanked him for his advice, handed him a tenner and he gave me back a five-dollar note. So I'm thinking, ``Five bucks for a cup of peas?'' Naaah, surely not. Surely he was going to put his paw in the till and hand me another three or four bucks.

Er, no. There was a sticker on the peas. The sticker said ``$5''. I shoulda sent them to the Smithsonian to be preserved.

On my way back to the car, I noticed there was an antique shop nearby. The thought crossed my mind that I should have ducked in there and bought a Wedgwood plate or a crystal bowl, the better to take home the World's Most Expensive Handful Of Peas. Huh, for all I knew the Wedgwood or crystal might have been less expensive than the precious little cargo in my hand.

Instead, I placed the tiny container of peas on the passenger seat of the car, much like a butler would have placed a royal footstool before a weary monarch - with the utmost respect.

When I got home, I unwrapped the gold nugget, er, sorry, the peas. And I stood there shaking my head for several seconds. Not only had I broken the Reserve Bank to pay for them, they fell short in one vital area. They weren't shiny green. You know, like the colour of normal peas. No, mate, they were a dull olive green, a bit like the paintwork on a secondhand army tank. No gloss. No sheen. No class. No pedigree.

I could have gone to the freezer and pulled out some frozen peas and I would have got a better result. But no, Maggie May and Crazy Cath were waiting. And I always believe in working with what I have. So I gritted my teeth and carried on. (Remind me to send the dentistry bill to Maggie and Cath, will ya?)

It was like working with plasticine. I longed for the bright green peas that I had imagined I was buying. So I decided I would grab a cheese grater from the kitchen and shave some ice over the peas. You know, to make 'em glisten a bit. But the ice cubes kept slipping in my grasp and I gave up when it looked as if I would slice my fingers to ribbons.

But I'm a determined sort. So I took out a small, sharp kitchen knife and yep, you guessed it, I tried cutting little slivers off the ice cubes. But slivers are still a lot bigger than ice shavings, so I had to wait a few minutes for the ice to melt, but then when it did, I had beads of moisture on the peas.

And that's when I got the most interesting shot of the day. In trying to liven up the colour, I had placed a red Skittles lolly (candy) among the peas. And if you look really closely at the last photograph (below) you'll see that the melting ice has caused the red Skittles to shed its colour rather dramatically.

And you want to know what I did with the peas after I finished shooting these photographs? I put them straight in the bin.

So I'll have to take up Maggie May's and Crazy Cath's challenge again. However, next time I'll do it with normal peas.

It'll be the justice of the peas.