So, I am definitely not a food photographer. It’s something that I think can certainly be done (really) well, but I often feel at a loss for the best styling, set-ups, lighting, food choices (peanut butter & jelly and mac & cheese are heavy in the rotation around here), and on and on. Excuses? Probably. I’d bet that if I took the time, it would be something I could really come to enjoy. It seems like something that could have really lovely, meditative and joyful tones to it that sounds really appealing.
I was looking back through my summer in photos recently and noticed that food kept popping up. These weren’t photos that were perfectly styled, lit wonderfully, or with just the right amount of spillage accenting the ingredients and the composition. They were photos that managed to tell different pieces of the story of our summer: my husband’s birthday dinner at the Italian place we’ve been meaning to try for ages, picking peas out in the pea fields with the kids, making jam with grandma, fourth of July bomb pops, camping on our summer road trip, smores at the cabin, the blue mouth from the coveted ring pop, our annual state fair visit.
The best part is that not only do these photos take me back to a dang good and full summer, but I can also still taste a heck of a lot of it. It was a good good summer.
All the best,