Contrast can set a story. By analogy, consider my two dining experiences from yesterday and today.
Yesterday, I sunk into a leather couch and watched the waiter bring this to the low, wooden table:
In contrast, today I sat upright and swirled bubbly stuff in a tall glass, through which I could see up and down State Street.
Brightness, too, can oscillate. Sometimes it can be so poignantly sharp that it hurts. It reminds me of a committee I’m on at the university. We meet maybe three or four times a semester (this afternoon we had one such meeting). I am funny there. I make ‘em laugh and laugh. This is not a goal of mine, nor do I consider myself especially prone to witticisms of the type that make you totter under the table because you just can’t stand the humor of it.
But there, at the meetings, I am John Travolta, coming alive on the Brooklyn dancefloor. I am Clark Kent, shedding his staid attire in favor of the skintight suit. I am somebody else.
I recommend this to anyone who is just bored with their take on a given exposure. Fiddle with brightness and contrast. Go ahead, give it a try.
