Potatoes and Pain - a short story about photography while making supper

This is what I call my potato, fork, blood, photography story. There can be a photo anywhere if you keep your eyes and mind open, even during a moment of intense physical pain.

This is one of my favorite and strangest photos. I love the glimmering light streaking across the silver texture of the fork, the curved shadow from the fork and the texture of the paper towel. Most of all, I love the red circle and matching red blotch. The red color is my blood.

Let me explain.

I love a good baked potato with butter and sour cream. This was my plan for supper late one night. As is my usual custom I poke multiple holes into the potato before throwing it into the microwave for an approximate 8 minutes cooking. Well “poking” holes is an understatement. It’s actually more of an aggressive “stabbing”. I hold the potato in my left hand and repeatedly stab the potato over and over as if I am murdering it to the point of making sure it will never suddenly come alive to seek its revenge.

You can guess what happens next since I’ve tipped you off about the blood.

My first stab on this particular potato murdering evening was not even close to making contact with the potato but instead lit with a vengeance in that soft area between the forefinger and thumb of my left hand. For those who would like the intellectual name of this area it is called the “purlicue” or more medically termed the “thenar web space”. I did look that up just now. Thanks world wide web.

Stab - Pain - No Sound Coming Out Of My Mouth. You know the kind of pain - where it’s just too painful for you to even make a sound. Like a hard stubbing of a toe into virtually anything, slamming a finger in a door, kneeling on a Lego. As I set down my fork weapon and reached for a paper towel to control the blood dripping from my purlicue I glanced over to the counter next to me. On the back of the former-utensil-now-turned-weapon there was an almost perfect circle of blood. I was completely intrigued with the fact that this blood had shot out of my hand at the moment of stab impact and landed in a perfect spot on the fork. A smaller spot of blood had landed on the paper towel creating an interesting color-coordinated composition. Blood Aerodynamics. (That is actually a great name for this photo.)

“I need my camera” was my next thought. So while simultaneously holding a paper towel over my injured hand and holding a camera in my right hand I took this favorite strange photo. To me this screams Art. Art that is subjective, enjoyed or not enjoyed by the beholder. Art that can be humorous and painful at the same time. Art that can be shared or not shared or simply savored as a memory by the creator.

This photo hangs in my kitchen as a reminder that everything in my kitchen can be used as a weapon with or without intent. Such as the time I placed my entire hand on a hot burner of the electric stove. See, suddenly Stove = Weapon. This photo is also a reminder to slow down and gently poke potatoes instead of brutally stabbing them. A baked potato will never rise up to invoke revenge upon me. Ever. I don’t need to be aggressive like a potato serial killer. Just gently poke some holes. That’s the lesson here. That’s all. Be Gentle, Slow Down. Eat your supper pain free.