Frightening the Shopkeepers by Delany Dean

I am having a blast, learning and practicing with layers. Have begun creating my own texture images for layering, because I want my images to be “my own” from start to finish. I’d like to have a group of effective images; it’s been a project of forcing my mind to think way outside the box. I see the great texture layers others have created and scratch my head in dismay; how in the world does one create such a thing? Gradually I am coming up with ideas, a few from online tutorials and a few just from watching the world around me with an eye focused more on the texture-gathering agenda. I have begun putting up some of these images, the ones that are working out pretty well, in a set on Flickr that I would be happy for anyone here to use, if they wish. But these are all still early efforts.

Yesterday I had what I thought was the really fun idea of going to a local shop that carries a lot of “world” or “international” clothing. I thought I’d find some cool fabrics and patterns, take photographs, and work them into texture images. I had shopped there several times, and occasionally bought some nice things. So I happily went into the shop and asked the clerk if I could take some pictures. She and her co-clerk (the store had no customers, and the two women had been sitting and chatting) looked just a bit alarmed. One of them said she would have to clear that with the owner. She went into a back room, and another woman came out and gave me a bit of an unfriendly glare. Asked me what I wanted, and why. Asked what I wanted to do with the images. I began to get the odd feeling that she thought I was going to create pornography, or something similarly distasteful. She explained to me that the clothing in her shop was “for sale” (of course that was news to me! Ha!), and that it would not do, at all, for pictures of the clothing to “show up on the internet.” Then she said she was “not as concerned” about the rugs, etc., in the back room.

I got the very uncomfortable feeling that I had just been accused of trying to steal something… I looked around in the “back room” for just a few minutes, but realized that all the fun really had been taken out of the expedition. It felt as if someone was looking disapprovingly over my shoulder. So I turned around, and walked on out. As I went out, I thanked all three of the women (they were busily discussing this odd photographer person, as I came back into the front room; still no customers in the shop). As I left, I muttered to myself “I’ll go home and take pictures of my own damn shirts.” And that is exactly what I did. Plus some photographs of a gravelly pathway.