So… I want to talk about what really annoys me about my husband. Here it is..this photo. I was walking down the hallway the other day and he was behind me and suddenly said “Don’t move!” He grabbed his camera and took the shot. I love it so much. The composition is perfect, the colors and shapes, and light and shadows.
So why is it so irksome? Because when I want to create a piece of art, it can take days/weeks, sometimes months of painstaking effort, usually involving second thoughts, insecurities, and often trashing what I’ve done and starting over. You know how long this piece of art took him? According to the metadata from his camera — one eightieth of a second. 1/80th. Factor in the editing time, the careful tweaking of the final image, and maybe — maybe — this masterpiece took 5 minutes to create. I can’t even lay my paintbrushes out in that amount of time.
It’s not fair. He would say the difference is that I am an artist and he is not. He would insist that I create something purely from my imagination, while he only documents things in front of him, things that catch his eye. But I would say his finished product is a work of art, and he can bite me.
