This year’s photo project: Snowpeople. Me and my big ideas. Maine winters make people do crazy things, and I’m no exception.
I decided it would be fun to do a Joles Photography snowpeople portrait. I tried to think of all the details. If we were snowpeople, what would we look like? What makes us us? People who know us will pick out Chris’ lucky Iron Maiden t-shirt, my leopard print, and the signature sunglasses. There are even Nikons.
I made a sketch, I designed a plan, and I got busy. Everything was going pretty well. These snowpeople are only a foot and half feet tall, what can go wrong? Pretty much everything. These icy little creatures kicked my butt.
Top Five Snowpeople Lesson List:
- Mr. Potato Head is a genius. His eyes, lips, ears, etc. are on little sticks so they stay in place. Rocks from my backyard are not on little sticks. They do not stay in place. Pins, clever snow manipulation, and profanity does not help.
- Putting the little snowpeople in the freezer for a couple of hours seems like a logical idea, right? Well it is if you put their twiggy little arms in BEFORE they cool off in the ice bin. Otherwise, you’re going to need a drill to get those sticks in place.
- Snowpeople lounging in said freezer for more than a few minutes become the equivalent of The Christmas Story’s metal pole. Mittens made soggy from wrestling pails of dry snow into packable, snowmanable balls (I had to) act like, you guessed it, a tongue. Mitten fuzz everywhere. The stuff sticks like glue. I “triple dog dare ya” to try it.
- Gravity and a few degrees upwards on the thermometer will send an otherwise hearty snowwoman’s face sliding right to her feet. Plink, plop, phit. It’s not pretty. It’s the ugly cry of snowwomen. Once the eyeballs take a digger, it’s over. No snowladies room magic Maybelline dust is going to fix this.
- If you turn your back on the snowpeople for more than ten seconds to change lenses, the pug will scale the snow bank, tackle the snowpeople, and eat their carrots, i.e. noses. Shoot over. Done.