More slides. All the photographs were taken using Kodachrome 64, which Cindy preferred because it didn’t create that super-saturated color that was, and maybe still is, so popular. She didn’t approve of the effect. The only reason I know what kind of film was used is that I was asked to pick some up after work on several occasions, because of film emergencies.
There are still undeveloped rolls of film lying around here, with who knows what on them; the cameras may still have film, and there are even some rolls of black-and-white slide film, because I had this idea that doing a slide show in black-and-white might be different, if not edifying. (I can picture the audience slowly sneaking away.) I might have the film developed, and then again, I might not. It takes me forever, relatively speaking, to get around to do things that aren’t of critical importance. Which, to me, means almost everything.
Permit me to illustrate this. Every time I go out, like to the store, I’m drawn into these conversations that revolve around “the game”. As in “Did you catch the game last night?” Or “I’ll be home just in time for the game”. The looks I get when I indicate that my interest in such things is less than zero make me think I really am a stranger in a strange land. I might counter with “I’ll be home just in time to see Viburnum farreri open its first flowers” just to see the reaction. Why should I be interested in something just because everyone else is?
Better yet, I could start a conversation with something like “You know that scene in Kaija Saariaho’s L’Amour de loin, where she invokes proença ….” and then run. I learned a long, long time ago that the things I find fascinating almost never interest anyone else; Cindy was an exception which is one reason we got along so well.
These are mostly slides of plants in the rock garden or in the troughs. That was the main purpose of taking pictures in those days (1990s); I whined endlessly about not having enough slides with which to do slide shows, and my photographer grudgingly took pictures of plants she didn’t think were all that exciting. Sometimes she took to a plant, and when I let it die, I never heard the end of it.
So, I do understand that these plants might not thrill everyone. I did take pains not to include pictures of plants with only one flower. (The titanopsis, with its reptilian leaves, is another story altogether.) My photographer found requests like this to be merely annoying. “It only has one flower. This is stupid.” I tried to explain that there might be four people on the planet who liked to see plants in flower, even if there was only one flower, and that sometimes all you get is one flower, and just maybe those people would be attending one of my slide shows, and come up to me afterwards and say, “Ah, I see you got this to flower”, thereby making the whole thing worthwhile.
Some of the plants pictured do have a certain snob appeal, what might be called the “neener factor”, but I’m far too dignified a person to indulge in such things.