Challenging myself to photograph my dinner for thirty days straight proved a task requiring mental agreement. I thought by making the challenge, the entirety of my mind knew of my mission, however, day one, a Saturday spent in New York, I ate a delicious steak at an adorable hole in the wall, hard to find, French restaurant and realized after cleaning my plate I had never photographed it. This continued for most dinners out and one eaten in. It reached a point where Hubby finally had to get on board with the project and ask, “Did you take a picture of your food yet?” before I plowed fork and knife into my meal.
While I am missing twenty percent of my dinners from the past thirty days, this little experiment proved educational. I learned my kitchen has the absolute worst lighting at 7:30 pm (our dinnertime). I learned the beauty of a photo series as such, and have loved, far more than I expected, looking through a month’s worth of dinner pictures and am especially proud that only one meal was repeated.*
*And not in exactly the same way, so it’s almost like that’s not even true.
24 Days of Dinner