Toasted

 

I can be quite literal. Example. Give me a bunch of old Polaroid cameras and a pile of film, and I will happily explore the limits of the cameras for months (and months). But what about the limits of the film? I can be such a slow learner...

Recently I was shuffling through a couple of year's worth of Impossible Project instant prints. They aren't worth much after scanning as they break down chemically with time. As I sighed over the beauty lost, I realized I had a fist full of artistic license.

This particular image never did much for me. Love the composition. Hate the flash. So, I took it to the kitchen and threw it in the toaster. Toaster. The print was young enough that the chemical soup between the layers bubbled up just so. Then I went after the white border with an Exacto. Like it.

Why stop there? We are talking artistic license. So I grabbed a Sharpie. (I have to hide mine because the little man prefers them to crayons.) Not sure I'm groovin' on the obvious drag of the pen tip, but in life this little image is quite satisfying. It's been on my work table ever since.

And how nice to have a good pen in hand once in awhile.

Impossible Project PX680 Cool Film

Polaroid OneStep SE AutoFocus Camera

Baked

I am intrigued by one of Toby Hancock's Polaroid out-takes from the exhibition  "Outside the Lines" at The Impossible Project's NYC Space (through the end of January).

His other-worldly image of a Frank Gehry building in L.A. is rapturous (if you Flickr, you can see it here).

His technique, which he kindly shared, inspired me to crank up the heat on my prints. In the oven. Two hours in a low oven and the little chemistry lab between the layers of this instant film goes a bit bonkers.

Before baking, this was just a failed attempt to capture my friends' old pump house and the garden cart that's been leaning against it as long as I can remember.  After baking, it is something entirely different. Not sure that I love it, but it is entirely different.