My wife always says she doesn’t really have an imagination or creativity.
Sure. And on weekends, I conduct at the Metropolitan Opera.
Then, out of nowhere, she comes up with an idea—a vision so detailed and astonishing that I stand there like a half-finished chess game, my brain struggling to process whether this is a photography concept or a military operation for colonizing Mars.
Her “modest” ideas sometimes present such challenges that I spend nights tossing and turning, wondering whether I should turn to physics, optics, or black magic to even attempt the execution.
She just shrugs and says, “Well, if it’s not possible, we can just forget it…”
But by then, it’s too late. The thought has burned itself into my mind. The challenge has been set. And there’s no turning back, because if I don’t capture this image, it would be like stopping a Dirty Fred novel halfway through. And that just wouldn’t do.
So, I dive in—relying solely on her “lack of imagination”—and when the final shot is done, she simply says:
“See? That wasn’t so complicated.”
Oh, sure. It only took two days of experimenting, three rounds of rebuilding the flash setup, and nearly getting my name into the world records for “Optical Illusions and Other Madness.”
But hey, as long as she’s “not creative,” at least I’ll never be bored. 😆📸