Coffee, Tea and Make-believe

Today is my 16th day of being in Ireland. I want to point out that during this time I have not had a single drop of coffee. Not one. Probably a record for me. Not that I'm not getting my caffeine—let's be realistic—I am. In the form of Irish tea. When in Rome…

While tea seems to be the rule, it also seems fitting. Here in the upper latitudes (+-53° N ) this time of year, the progression of light lazes through the day. Light is slow to disperse in the mornings and dissipate in the evenings. (I shot till almost 8:30 p.m. last night, albeit with a Feisol tripod. And I know the 5 a.m. atmosphere from taking my niece to the airport twice as she eventually fled the volcanic ash.) Just like the upper-latitudinal light, tea seems to distribute stimulants to my system in a similar languorous way. Instead of a jolt, it's a gentle easy progression. Don't get me wrong, sometimes a heady uppercut jolt is what I need, but this is a welcome departure from my usual wonts. I don't speak Irish (although it sounds like the greatest made-up language ever—even more than Klingon) but by regular tea I feel a speck of something that isn't the usual Slavic-Sicilian me.

Not being fussed about coffee brings me to other things I am not fussed about while in Ireland. Models. Sometimes I have them, sometimes I don't. I like having models. I am often vexed when I don't because as a lifestyle photographer they are preferred. But I can't just create a model from thin air. (Believe me, I tried making one out of scrap metal and construction tidbits lying around the Reynolds Kingdom junkyard-forest. Ridiculous.) Instead, what I did manage in a small way was to invoke human presence with some old weathered chairs that I selectively placed around the Kingdom of Reynolds.

As you can see, I am playing with invisible make-believe tea-people. You can't see them but you know they are there. This is me, in Ireland, drinking tea, playing, in the sometimes-rain.