Dad informed me that he needed a photograph of himself for work. His request was apropos, because I had just purchased five yards of black crushed panne to use as a backdrop. Hitherto I hadn't been able to convince anyone to sit for me and had to console myself with self-portraits.
When we returned home from church Sunday, before Dad removed his tie and coat for dinner, I set up my studio in the living room. I assembled the PVC frame that Betsy gave me for Christmas and draped it with my new imitation velvet. I scrounged up my Grandma's old movie spotlight for extra lighting and recruited a light-holder, whom I instructed to aim the light at the white ceiling.
Mid-way through the session I heard my assistant proclaim, "Look, the light makes black look purple."
"Aim it at the ceiling," I said. I was too late. The light was smoking and there was a hole melted in my new backdrop.
We scrunched the damaged material to the edge, I recruited another light-holder and we proceeded with the shoot. Then Monday morning I stopped at JoAnn Fabric and purchased two and a half more yards of black crushed panne.