My studio lamp died on me. At the worst possible moment, of course. Sod’s law, right?
It was Thursday morning. I’d set up my foldaway studio in the hallway first thing after breakfast, before heading back into the kitchen to prepare everything for that day’s photo shoot: a mouth-watering vegetarian grazing board for Christmas.
Once the board was ready—all this lovely food laid out neatly on my largest chopping board—I carried it into my little studio, placed it on the table, and turned on my studio light.
Nothing. The hallway remained as dim as ever. I checked the plug, the socket, the cable… nothing appeared to be wrong there, so I took the bulb out and screwed it into the nearest holder: the loo’s. After ensuring the light in the loo worked just fine, of course.
Upon flipping the light switch, nothing happened. I took my studio light out and the loo’s back in, flipped the switch and lo and behold: clear as day.
Mystery solved. Def my studio light bulb that had kicked the bucket. For a moment I panicked. Now what?
I needed to take those photos, and fast, because the food wouldn’t stay fresh for hours. Besides, that Gourmet Spoonie blog post 7 Simple Steps to a Gorgeous Vegetarian Grazing Board needed to go live that afternoon. No photos, no blog post.
I had some spare IKEA bulbs. Only 3500 kelvin, though, and just 800 lumen. Far from ideal. Should I open my front door and grant King Winter entrance? But he’d bring only cold and no light. Well, some perhaps, but not nearly enough. Dutch winters…
Of course, I still had this other studio light. A small rectangle which, while bright enough, produces harsh, glaring shadows. But still… it was my best bet. I shoved it into my softbox as best I could, and finally proceeded with the photo shoot.
The pictures turned out OK. Ish. Not quite as good as I’d have liked, but as the saying goes: beggars can’t be choosers.
What would you have done, if you’d been in my shoes?
(Sorry, can’t help myself. The poet in me insisted I should use that phrase…)
By now, you’re probably wondering: but what’s this got to do with being disabled?
Well, not much... yet.
So far, it’s just the tale of a food photographer who didn’t plan ahead and found himself in rather a pickle when an essential part of his equipment died on him.
Lesson learnt.
And here’s where the disability part comes in. See, if I weren’t disabled, I’d have just jumped on my bike as soon as I’d finished my photo shoot. I’d have gone to the nearest photography shop and bought not one, but two new bulbs.
This whole thing had me burn through my spoons like you wouldn’t believe, so by the time I wrapped up my photography session, I was living on borrowed spoons and went straight to bed. Didn’t even bother to tidy up. Just put the food in the fridge so it wouldn’t spoil, but that was all.
So there was that—and there was still more.
I don’t have a bike. Not a regular one. I have an add-on handbike for my wheelchair, but since I’m currently between chairs (I’m using my spare chair, which I can’t attach to my handbike), I don’t have the means to ride my spare chair any further than the nearest mall—which does not have a photography shop.
But even if I could use my handbike, I still wouldn’t have been able to go to any shop at all. It’s December. Most shops are crowded right now, and my autistic brain can’t handle that kind of stress.
Been there, done that. I don’t need an autistic shutdown. Not now. Not ever. So I stay at home, in my little cocoon, away from the hustle and bustle of the real world. Me with my cats, my music, and my writing. That’s what keeps me sane and grounded.
Instead of risking a shutdown, I went online and ordered two new studio light bulbs—which probably won’t arrive until next year, but still. Under the circumstances, it’s the best I can do. I’ll settle for that.
The waiting game has begun.
Thank you for being here. Please ❤️ (below) if you enjoyed this piece. It really helps others find it.
Words don’t write themselves—though I sometimes wish they did…
Support my work on Ko-fi.
Your help keeps the Muse talking and the stories alive.
PS: If you enjoyed this post, feel free to share it.
Comments
Nothing yet. Say the first thing.
Sign in to join the conversation.