mud pies to medicine: Some Cupcakes Were Harmed in this Production

Thursday, January 5, 2012

Some Cupcakes Were Harmed in this Production

You know why my New Year's Resolution is better than yours? Because mine encourages me to buy cupcakes. I saw a blog a while back, which sadly I cannot find, featuring these same cupcakes. Anyone who is familiar with the site Pinterest knows that it has great photos. One must be careful though when searching through craft projects to not get too impressed by the photo itself. I have seen great photos taken of really bad craft projects. Similarly, you can really sell a cupcake with a good photo (ok maybe not these). So to prove it, straight from my neighborhood ~~Georgetown Cupcake~~ Shoprite, here are some nice little photos.

Day #5 Resolutions can be tasty

And just to push the envelope, I wanted to prove that sometimes, it's about the lighting. A lot of bloggers think they need to spend hundreds on a great camera, meanwhile their phone can handle the job. Drop $25 at Lowe's on a decent light and you can take this photo:

Seriously, I took that photo with my iPhone and all I did was brighten it, crop it, and tint it to balance some yellow (not hard) which you can do with any free editing software. You don't need a fancy dslr to take some great photos!


poor man's light studio

This challenge is causing my room to be a mess and some great engineering feats are being achieved using my furniture.

2 comments:

K M MillerJanuary 5, 2012 at 9:20 PM
Stop procrastinating.
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TaraJanuary 6, 2012 at 9:24 AM
I want to be you. This may be my favorite post ever.

(Also you can keep procrastinating for all I care because you're helping me procrastinate too. ;) )
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The inspiration you ask?

I miss making mud pies. There is this huge rock in my front yard. To call it a rock really does it a dishonor. It is a boulder, brought home by my father on a huge dump truck after he blasted it out of a work site. My mom one day told me that even though it is nearly 2.5 feet high, 6 feet long, and 2.5 feet wide, that it was, in fact, only half-showing. The scientist inside of me was disbelieving and set out to get some proof. Clad in a dress, bow in my hair, and my best accessory, a shovel, I trudged outside ready to prove my mother wrong. That is when the digging began. I dug, and dug, and dug, and nearly all 3.5 feet of Danielle fit in that hole when I had reached the bottom of the rock. That became my digging spot, my mud pie kitchen. Each day it was dug, and each evening it was filled back in. Sometimes the holes were small, sometimes they were enormous, and most days the hole was turned into my mud mixing bowl with that rock as my counter. The novelty never wore off. The ebb and flow of my childhood was, in many ways, measured by the ever-changing depth of that hole in the front yard, the hole that never really disappeared even each day after it was filled in. Even though the grass has grown back in that spot, there still remains, an indentation, the scars of a childhood well lived and the disbelieving scientists I have always been.

So, you ask me why I want to be a doctor? I do not want to be a doctor. I want to open a mud pie bakery with the cash register on that rock in my front yard. But, somehow, I doubt I would stay in business long, for the world seems to have lost its taste for mud pies. I guess being a doctor will have to do.