Thursday, June 19, 2008


Peep Joust - March 2002

I stumbled across this picture while poking through my network folder at work this morning. It intrigues me for a number of reasons.

How had it survived more than six year in my user folder without being purged? I've cleared out that folder several times, every time I think I might be leaving and every time I decide to rededicate myself to my work. How did the subfolder with this picture survive unscathed?

Further, whose hands are those? I can easily identify the hand at the upper right, because it's wearing the hideous wedding band that I slipped on my beloved Accountant Boy's finger a few years earlier. He lost that ring in the Arroyo Seco river in 2006, to our mutual relief. "I, uh, I never really liked it, honey." "Yeah, me neither. It cut into my fingers when I held your hand." This might be the only picture we have of the dreaded multifaceted metal ring. I know that hand is A.B.'s. The upper left hand is probably his as well. The fingernails are the same. Whose hands are holding the plate? Are they Falstaff's hands? Mr Wolf's hands? Someone else's?

What was the meaning of the hands behind the Peeps? Were they there for scale? As you may know, the act of jousting in the microwave severely distorts Peeps. Was this an attempt at a pre-joust measurement, and if so, where is the equivalent post-joust measurement shot? It's not in the folder. I have pictures of the aftermath, and A.B. and Falstaff eating their sugary champions, but not another one of the hands parallel to the plate. Why didn't we take that shot?

The strangest part about this is that I took this picture. I know, because it was with my Olympus almost-SLR, my first digital camera, and I didn't let anyone else use it. That's me behind the lens, so close to those Peeps that I can smell the sugar. Why don't I remember the answers to these questions?

My confusion not withstanding, I love this picture. I love the composition. I love the bright Peep bodies standing out from the more muted flesh tones of the hands and the shiny, deep black of the plate. Stumbling across it this morning was like tripping over a little piece of treasure while wandering through a dusty cave.

I haven't retrieved my current camera from A.B.'s luggage yet, so I don't have pictures of my ribbon crochet project. It's coming along nicely, though not as quickly as I'd hoped. If I had a few hours uninterrupted to work on it, it'd be done. Maybe this weekend.

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