Tag Images

Artificially yours

Michael 9 Comments

I’m on notice. Me. Mr. Niceguy. The one who follows (almost) all the rules no matter how boring that makes me. Still, I’m the one in trouble.  But… I admit I did what I’ve been accused of. No “not guilty by reason of I said so” plea for me. No, I did it, I got caught, and I’ll tell you and whoever else wants to know, I’m going to do it again! I posted a manipulated picture. And the bad thing about that is, I didn’t say it wasn’t real. Here it is.

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Some of you might recognize this. It is the “cover art” that accompanied the ROAMcare blog post Spring Cleaning. I wanted a picture of a spray of daffodils and a red convertible. As luck would have it, I happened to have in my own photo library two very such pictures, and in years past, I would have spent hours cropping them, removing backgrounds, matching sizes, colors, brightness, and perspectives, then combining them and adding the resulting composite to the placeholder, overlay the text, and finally celebrate the job well done with a bowl of moose tracks ice cream. Instead, I took advantage of a tool at my disposal and told my handy dandy image generator (i.e. AI app), “show a spray of daffodils with a red convertible in the background,” and dished out the ice cream while it thought about this for a while. I knew it wouldn’t be exactly what I wanted but I made up for that with an extra scoop

Some time later, I added that image to our website, the email campaign, and the social media sites, Instagram, Threads, LinkedIn, Facebook, and the one that used to be known as Twitter. And there was the problem child. That last one. The one that doesn’t even have enough confidence in itself to give itself a name, just some generic letter used for centuries as the signature stand-in for the illiterati. It dared to lock the organization account until I could prove we are humans. Thus, I was forced to solve a series of computer-generated puzzles to prove I am myself not computer-generated.

I suppose I will now be counted among the many when the owner of said anonymous site defends his company from claims of spreading questionable if not outright false information by saying “Why in the last month alone we limited access and deterred the activities of 196 billion, and that’s so big it starts with a b billion, users caught red-handed posting AI manipulated photos. We the best there is at not spreading lies. And while we’re at it, the earth is flat and we know smart people who say so!”

And guess what? I did the same thing a week later when I posted a generated image of two geese sitting on eggs in a nest. What can I say. Lock me up!

Every life is a life worth living. Celebrate with us the memory of a man who kept so many very much alive in Staying Alive.

Picture Perfect

Michael Leave a comment

I was watching an old TV show yesterday when it was noted that the then most popular hobby was photography. Then was in the mid-1960s.

In mid-60 I was still measuring my age in single digits and picture taking was a natural extension of any structured family gathering – birthdays, Christmas, opening pitch at the local little league. After the pictures were taken the film was developed and the printed pictures camerabecame the center of attention for an evening. They were passed around among the family, mounted in (or at least stuck between the covers of) one of the many family picture albums, and that’s where there seemed to rest until happily ever after.

Fast forward 50 years. That’s when my father passed away. I don’t know when the custom began or if it was/is even a custom but then it was a thing to display pictures on French memory boards and scatter about during the viewings. My mother and sisters spent hours going through albums and boxes and envelopes to select the images that represented as many of the 8 plus decades my father walked the earth. Pictures I remembered from those family “picture shows” were there and there were also pictures from milestone events since and not so milestone events before. Faces of relatives who had died before I was born shared space with the one of a much younger father. While we were occupied fitting remembered names to forgotten visages we became caught up in remembering lives lived rather than one so recently lost.

The interesting thing was that after the funeral and things returned to their normal paces and places, those pictures didn’t. Every time I stopped by at my mother’s house a new old picture found its way into a frame on a wall, a spot on the mantel, a corner of a mirror. “Who is that,” was answered with who, when, where, what was happening, what happened next, what everyone else in and not in the picture thought about it, turning a simple question into a wonderful story.

Today the most popular hobby is, depending on what site you pluck out of the 2 million or so that a search returns, either gardening or fishing. Photography is still pretty high on all the lists. A quick peek at Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest, or any other social site confirms that. Hopefully some of those images will last for 50 years so when today’s generation fast forwards the next mid-60s they will turn into their own stories. And rest happily ever after.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

 

 

Get the Picture?

Michael Leave a comment

Last week I was digging under the bed to see what I could pull out of there. I try to clean out the “underbed storage” about every ten or fifteen years. I found a duffel bag that I was looking for just a few months ago. There were coin wrappers and bill straps; unfortunately they were all empty. I saw a shoe box with no shoes in it. And there was a camera bag. Not the big bag that had the big camera, lenses, flash and such. That was in the office. Not the little case that held the palm size digital camera that goes on vacation if I ever go on vacation again. This was a forgotten camera bag with a roll of film (actually a cartridge of film), a strange sized battery, and a claim check from an airline that has since gone out of business. No camera.

I don’t remember the last time I used a film camera. I do remember it was a 35mm camera and not one that used the 110 cartridge. I remember a camera that used that cartridge but I remember it from something like thirty or forty years ago. (I know I cleaned out under the bed since then. I know that because I’ve moved a few times since then.)

I might not remember that camera – and it’s a good thing the camera wasn‘t there because nobody probably still processes those little film cartridges – but I do remember that I used to take quite a few pictures and actually displayed them. I had pictures on walls, on end tables, in bookcases, on desks, even stuck to the front of the refrigerator in magnetic picture frames. Still do. I’ve slowed down in picture taking. Lots of people today take many more pictures than I ever did. But how many of those pictures ever end up as photographs.

So many pictures get taken and are posted somewhere electronically. And there’s nothing wrong with that. But I’ve always thought of a picture as an opportunity to remember someone or something. At work I had pictures on my desk, file cabinets, and walls. They were of my daughter, of She and me, of people from work doing fun things. They were snapshots of things to make me smile usually when I most needed a smile. I remember only three other managers in my building who had personal pictures somewhere in their offices.

Print a picture, pop a stick or chip in a printer at a drugstore, or download a few shots to a digital frame. Don’t make all of your future memories “images.” Take a photo every now and then.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?