Insatiable Instagram

I'm not 22 years old with a curvy figure and long, flowing hair.

And yet, I'm still having a blast sharing my photos on Instagram. Over the last two years, the ritual of finding an image for my daily post has made me a better photographer. And to be honest, I'm having more fun than ever.

I've tried to figure out what the hook is. The more I think about it, the more Instagram reminds me of photography as an 12-year old kid with an Instamatic. I would shoot anything that looked interesting: friends, pets, home, vacation, cars, bikes, toys, food, family - everything was fair game.

Then photography got serious. It had to have meaning.

Those were probably my worst images. They were analogous to adolescent poetry, feigning profundity, yet transparently superficial.

Blech!

Let's, instead, take a picture of the cat chasing its tail. Now that's life. And that's the joy that Instagram has returned to my images. Not only can I shoot and share anything I want, so can everyone else.

My Instagram page ranges from alcoholic beverages, to silly signs, to colorful sunsets, to yes, my cat. No apologies for any of it.

And when it's time for serious photography (these days thankfully the paying kind with clients), I feel more creative, spontaneous, and yes... free.

You won't see many selfies on my page. Quite honestly, I'm a bit too old for that. But you'll see practically everything else.

And that's why I just can't get enough of it.

-Derrick

After All That

I have been all over the world with my iPhone.

I've sailed the English Channel, hopped out of British cabs, endured numerous buses, snorkeled off the coast of Maui, lounged around a pool sipping lava flows, and even dropped my iOS device from the top row of high school gym bleachers. And through all of this, the 5S survived.

That charmed life ended abruptly earlier this week.

The inocoulous task of cleaning diving gear led to an accidental, and extended, submersion under water. The iPhone was dead.

The 5S was my fourth iPhone, and my first fatality. I still use unlocked 3GS and 4S models as international travel communicators. The original iPhone is a dedicated music player at the house. Oh sure, it has a few bumps and scratches, but it's alive.

Not the 5S. 

After a little research, I learned that Apple will replace my iPhone for $269. I simply submitted a service request online, Apple transmitted my shipping information to UPS, and the next day I walked into a UPS store with phone in hand and said, "here."

24 hours later, I received an email from Apple stating they have received my device. The day after that they shipped me a replacement.

I hate the $269 non-budged expense. But the demise of the 5S was my own doing. And I think that Apple replacing a $800 mobile phone for $269, no questions asked, is reasonable. Plus the process was pain-free.

I will probably never, ever, drop my iPhone in water again. But I have to admit...

I wish all companies would cover my mistakes so gracefully.

-Derrick

Outside the Mixing Bowl

If you stay long enough, even the asylum begins to feel normal.

This must be a coping mechanism. That's my only explanation. How else could you rationalize our ability to deal with angry drivers, rude service personnel, ladder climbing coworkers, and people who are more than a few cards short of a full deck? 

We do it because we have to. 

The problem is, when you leave the mix for a period of time, coming back isn't quite so easy. Most of us experience this phenomenon when we return from vacation. 

I think the first day back at work is a profoundly sobering experience. I don't know if this has happened to you, but I've literally stood there, watched, then slowly backed away from the door.

I'm not sure if this is an argument for, or against, extended vacations. The argument for is quite simple: you find your sense of well being.  The argument against is... well there really isn't one, is there?

So once a year, we regain our vision before sliding back into the mixing bowl.  The beaters begin to spin. But with battered eyes we look ahead...

To the next two weeks of sanity on the books.

-Derrick

Postcard Photography

Personally, I think postcards get a bad rap from serious photographers.

if you're new to a destination, visit the local souvenir shop and browse the postcard rack. In just a few minutes, you'll see all of the iconic views of the area. You could use this information as starting points for your own work. (Plus, you might want to purchase a few extra to send to Mom who never really understood your artsy images.) 

Once you find the spot where a postcard picture was captured, start out by recording your own version. They're excellent for reference, title slides, and for those who appreciate less adventuresome artwork. 

i don't know if you've ever had this happen to you. But I've presented a series of my favorite shots from a location with one or two postcard types thrown in, only to have the viewer remark, "Ooh, that one's nice!" 

Sigh. 

Despite these minor setbacks, don't stop shooting once you've captured the obvious. Push forward and make that scene your own.

Do it, even if you're the only one who will appreciate an alternative view of an iconic subject. 

Consider it your own personal postcard.

-Derrick

Long Exposures

One of the most interesting techniques in photography is to leave the shutter open and see what happens.

Generally speaking, this is not a midday activity, which is part of the reason why I like it. Long exposures work better when the sun has long passed its zenith, or has disappeared all together. Early morning, twilight, moonlight, overcast, indoors... these are great long exposure situations. 

I've been using a feature on my Olympus OM-D called Live Time for for these situations. I place the camera on a tripod and use my iPhone to control it. This is easy because the OM-D E-M10 has built-in WiFi that talks to the iOS app, Olympus Image Share.  

I line up the composition, activate the shutter release with the iPhone, then watch the image slowly come to life on the iPhone screen. When it looks the way I want, I tap the button again to close the shutter.  And the image is captured.

This is the closest thing I've experienced in digital photography to watching a photograph come to life in a tray of developer. I don't miss the chemical darkroom. But I do miss that moment of magic.

This sensation is amplified with the effect produced by the long exposure. Water becomes a foggy blanket draped across glistening rocks. Moving people dissolve from hard, edgy creatures to translucent ghosts. The world becomes a softer place when framed by long exposures. 

It's not that I despise the harsh light of reality. 

But sometimes I need a break from it. 

-Derrick