I love taking jewellery and bead photos in natural light. Glass lit in the right way is full of radiance and somehow it just seems to come alive. The truth of the matter is a British winter is not a bright and sunny time and for the next few months beautiful natural light will be very hard to come by. The thought of another winter leaping into action the second the sun comes out and, armed with my camera, chasing a tiny patch of light round the house was more than I could bear. So after years, and I do mean years, I bit the bullet and invested in some lighting for my photography... I love how tame that sounds! 

The research didn't take long, I had been looking at this stuff for the longest time and the parcel arrived the next day. It was only about a metre long by maybe 20 cm square but it was heavy. Now usually when a parcel arrives I'm like a 6 year old on Christmas morning ripping at the box and tape with gay abandon but this was different... I was scared of this box. 

For a couple of days I skirted round it, only looking at it out of the corner of my eye. George asked what was in the box, perplexed by my apparent lack of interest, of course when I said photography lights I got the full eye roll, in general it's best not to mention lights of any kind to George but that's a story for another day! I realised I was going to have to un-box the things because I needed to make sure they actually worked. I also knew that the box was full of voodoo magic, once they were released from the box there was no jiggery pokery on earth that would get them back in. 

So yesterday afternoon I opened the box, immediately it spewed it's contents, filling the floor with poles, spigots and all manner of shiny nylon madness. Now what you need to know at this point is that I live in a tiny terrace house, it's about the size of a peanut and it's already rammed to the gunnels with beads, jewellery and associated paraphernalia. Herein lies the truth of my fear.... these lights are monsters. I know there are table top varieties available but over the years I have thrown hundreds of pounds at every conceivable lighting solution except for the one I actually needed. 

Armed with nothing but a mug of hot chocolate and a You Tube video on how to set up soft box lighting I got down to it, it took me all afternoon.... Oh dear, it turns out I was right... they're utterly enormous and they're not coming down again until we move house, which is  most unfortunate because, did I mention? they're beyond, fucking, HUGE!

So now the back half of the living room is full of soft box lighting for the occasional jewellery photograph, it's probably best to schedule this outside of the Bake Off Final in case I bring the grid down. George has contacted a surveyor to get the house valued, apparently size is an issue! and I feel like I'm in the weeping angels episode of Dr. Who, I keep expecting to look round and find them closer to the back of my chair and fully illuminated.

The good news is if the lights go down at the Amex Stadium for the next Brighton and Hove Albion Game I can sort them right out.