The fig that changed me

Yesterday we played a little game here where I showed some pictures and you were supposed to guess what they were of (good job guessing the lime!). 

But I don't think anyone guessed the fig.



Last week I bought some black mission figs, and before they molded they were incredibly delicious. So this week I wanted to buy more black mission figs, but they didn't have them at the store. They had the green ones though, so I bought a box of those. Maybe they're not ripe or something, but they weren't soft and they weren't tasty, and I didn't like how they made my tongue feel.

So I did what any regular person would do. I cut one in half, cut a thin disc slice of it, put the slice between two pieces of glass, put that on top of a bright, lcd light panel, and took some pictures of it.






It looked like this:

I thought "That's crazy. That's not really like a fig even if it is a picture!"

But it was pretty.

So I tried editing it down and sharpening and brightening it up a bit, figuring it couldn't really do any serious damage to the fabric of fig reality.

Reality is a fig:

"Well if the fig is not going to be a fig in a photograph, I don't see why I have to be the one to keep it all fig-like." I said, feeling a touch of gleeful, mad scientist abandon.

I zoomed:

I zoomed more and messed with the color. I was out of control. Photography was taking on another meaning. 

Or maybe it was figs that were taking on another meaning:

I took more pictures of the fig slice. I did more things to the framing and the color. I was almost there:

Too far! Tone it down. But just a little. Back it up. But just a little:

And there it is.

A fig.

Pictures don't lie.