Contrast can set a story. By analogy, consider my two dining experiences from yesterday and today.
Yesterday, I sunk into a leather couch and watched the waiter bring this to the low, wooden table:

In contrast, today I sat upright and swirled bubbly stuff in a tall glass, through which I could see up and down State Street.

Brightness, too, can oscillate. Sometimes it can be so poignantly sharp that it hurts. It reminds me of a committee I’m on at the university. We meet maybe three or four times a semester (this afternoon we had one such meeting). I am funny there. I make ‘em laugh and laugh. This is not a goal of mine, nor do I consider myself especially prone to witticisms of the type that make you totter under the table because you just can’t stand the humor of it.
But there, at the meetings, I am John Travolta, coming alive on the Brooklyn dancefloor. I am Clark Kent, shedding his staid attire in favor of the skintight suit. I am somebody else.
I recommend this to anyone who is just bored with their take on a given exposure. Fiddle with brightness and contrast. Go ahead, give it a try.

3 comments:
Hey, you look like Camille Paglia in that picture!
Once again, great picture of food. The wrestling match between my love of good food and Mr. Atkins continues. Mr. Atkins is in a losing half Nelson at this point.
Sooo, where was the picture of sushi taken? You make it look so good. More so than that. In the immortal words of JJ from Good Times,"its dynomite!"
Contrast can be a great thing. But sometime its all about the subject matter.
Rich
ann: I'll accept that only if she is stunning.
rich: Thanks -- it's Restaurant Muramoto. I love the place! Great sushi and then some. Be sure to have some of the and then some when you go.
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