which of course blurs can be deliberate, accidental, or even more better
as most of mine are. (I say most, the ones I deliberately try for often don’t …)
SO HERE’S YER FIRST
—a wee butterfluff I was shooting. Perched on a nasturtium, he was, minding his own business … the BF I was originally sneaking up on flew off so I shifted target right and then this guy did likewise, beating up for altitude and defeating the camera’s auto-focus magic. Bugger~!
AND NOW FOR SOMETHING
completely different, a Peter Pan made blurry by the morning sun some months back—
—a different form of blur which seems to have obliterated the Tinker Bell perched on his shoulder. (Foxy wee thing, too …)(Tink, I mean, not Pete—although The Spouse did once put some flowers into his cold hands)
This one we’ve all seen before but what the hell, it’s a blur. It qualifies.
All you need is a cold morning, a tiny puff of breath on the lens and the path less travelled through the woods … I remember being afraid to walk the woods when I was a little lad, ‘cos of all the wolfs (I didn’t know what a wolf was but the literature was filled with them—wolves lurked behind every tree)(I also made damn’ sure never to be carrying a basket anywhere near trees).
can now guarantee that immediately after next Friday I shall be shooting blurs all over the place, and some of them will be very artistic—a bit like all the cans of paint I kicked over in my life without once realising that had I but signed the tarpaulins “JP” I may well have made millions. ‘Twas ever thus, opportunity uses time to blur the rewards …