A 2016 ToDo List

I was thinking a bit about my ToDo list for this afternoon (instead of actually completing it), and I noticed how throughly computer dependent it was.

Virtually everything on the list was, well, virtual. See for yourself:

  • Update Google webmaster tools for theAnalogstory.com
  • Sign up for Linkedin (at the friendly prompting of the team at lynda) and complete my profile page
  • Write a post for The Nimble Photographer (now, that's a fun one!)
  • Write metadata entries for each of the new movies for the soon-to-be published Flickr Mobile title on lynda.com
  • Write and record Welcome movie for Flickr Mobile
  • Post new items in TheFilmCameraShop on Etsy
  • Answer reader email
  • Finish refurbishing the Contax 159MM and 139Q film cameras 

Not until the last item did I get to do something truly physical. I think because of this list, I've really come to relish activities such as restoring film cameras, riding my bike, and taking long walks. 

That's also why I love taking pictures. Photography remains a truly hands-on experience. Regardless if I'm using a digital or analog camera, I'm still exploring the world through my viewfinder, adjusting the dials and buttons, pressing the shutter, and hoping that I've created something pleasing to look at.

I'm lucky to be a publisher, writer, and a consultant. As far as jobs go, those are terrific. But at the end of the day, photography is the joy of my creative life. I've loved it since I was 11 years old. And I wouldn't be surprised if my last words were:

"Could you please hand me that lens over there."

-Derrick

Pancake Lenses

A compact body is important, but it's only half the equation. The lens you mount on that nimble picture-taker makes or breaks the entire package. And for some time now, I've been hooked on pancake lenses.

Granted, the name isn't very attractive. But their slim designs more than make up for it. By only protruding from the front of the camera by an inch or less, these diminutive optics create a sharp picture-taking machine that fits practically in any pouch or jacket pocket.

My favorite pancakes include:

In addition to their compact size, these optics provide sharp results and relatively fast apertures. They've literally changed my approach to photography. By working with just a single focal length, I've become more resourceful in finding the right distance and angle for a shot, and I've missed fewer opportunities because I always have one of these cameras with me.

Every Nimble Photographer deserves a pancake lens. And once you've tried one, I'm certain you'll never let it go.

-Derrick

Two Lenses and a Body

On Sunday afternoon, we all gathered in a conference room at the Cartwright Hotel to share our pictures. 

I had the projector and viewing screen set up. We were tired, but in good spirits. Everyone had been working hard for two and a half days to build a small collection of images to show to the group.

Each photographer choose eight that they wanted to talk about. This could include their favorites, or simply experiments that didn't turn out as expected. It didn't make any difference to us. We were there, in that darkened room, to enjoy the efforts of our fellow artists.

I've seen many of these shows over the years. It's the conclusion to practically every workshop I lead. By the time we get to the final day, the level of comfort and trust within the group makes these presentations fun and not threatening.

The quality of imagery is always high. That happens when people have the time and support to work on their passion and immerse in their craft. And the show on Sunday was not different. The photographs were outstanding.

What was different, however, was how they were made. Since we were working on the streets of San Francisco, sometimes logging as many as 10 miles a day, bulky backpacks were left at home. Most of our shooters opted for a light shoulder bag, a body, and just a couple lenses.

You'd think, at least at first, that leaving your arsenal of glass behind would adversely affect the variety and quality of imagery. But contrary to that thought, I think the pictures actually got better. Everyone was surprisingly fresh and energetic, even as the days wore on. And that energy translated into creativity.

I guess you could consider this a field test of sorts. Do photographers fare better with less gear for urban and travel shooting? Based on the images projected in that darkened conference room on Sunday afternoon...

I would say yes.

-Derrick

Do I Look Like a Tourist?

I'm heading down to San Francisco to lead a street photography workshop this week. I love exploring the city and discovering new things to capture in my lens. This week, I'll have eight of my best friends with me.

I know some photographers don't like to travel in groups, no matter how small. Yes, it attracts attention, but there are some benefits compared to the alternative. 

When I work by myself (which I also enjoy), I seem to create more anxiety in the environment than when I have a group with me. I can almost hear...

"What is he doing?"

"I'm not sure, but I think he's taking pictures."

"Of what?"

"Could be anything. He seems to like that staircase."

"Do you think he's a terrorist?"

"Well, I don't know. Why do you wonder?"

"I think he's really scoping out that building for an attack."

"Really? You think he's going to bomb that staircase?"

"Maybe. He looks suspicious to me."

When I start to feel those stares, I move on. The joy of the shot has most likely passed, and I'm better off finding another subject.

But with a group, the dynamic is completely different. Clearly we're just a bunch of tourists. Because, after all, terrorists never travel in Bermuda-clad packs.

That's why I'm OK with being a tourist, even when I'm not. We might be seen as mildly annoying, but nothing more than that.

Which allows us to go about our business of taking pictures,

and not blowing up staircases.

-Derrick

One-Eyed Jack

I wasn't nearly as nervous as I thought I would be. 

The surroundings were quiet and comfortable. I was reclined and still wearing street clothes, although they had to remove my shoes because the blue fabric booties would not fit over them.

The conversations with passer-bys were brief. Topics focused on comfort, timing, and the magical Villanova win over North Carolina in the NCAA men's basketball final.

And then it was time.

Eyesight is important to everyone. And doing what I do, my job is more difficult when it's compromised. It's not just the inconvenience of diffused lights while trying to drive at night. It's actually harder to write, and to photograph, when my God-given optics aren't at full capacity.

I drifted off for a moment. Then came back to a dazzling light show playing in my left eye. I heard voices. Some were human, and one was robotic calling out various tasks. The colors twisted and turned. Some discussion. The colors changed again. They were clearer this time, better defined.

I was neither comfortable, nor uncomfortable. My body was non-existent. There was only consciousness and the colored lights.

I don't remember much about the ride back. There was movement, yes. But the path was only defined by a progression of rectangular fluorescent lights above me. Then we parked, and I was raised up to an angle more suitable for conversation.

"How do you feel?"

"I feel good."

"Would you like something to drink? Maybe some juice? You haven't eaten for a long time."

"Some juice would be nice. Cranberry if you have it."

"We do."

We all know about interchangeable lens cameras. But this was my first experience as an interchangeable lens human. My new optic is UV coated. Now that I've had a chance to test it, my review is positive. 

Its color temperature is a bit cooler than the previous lens it replaced. I entertain myself by closing one eye, then the other, to see how they render scenes differently. My left eye is about 5800K, while my right is a warmer 5000K. These are only approximations, of course.

I marvel at a lot of things in life. But replacing a damaged lens and having me back to work within 24 hours just topped my list for the week. Incredible.

I'm no longer a one-eyed Jack. Thanks Doc. You're one helluva a repairman.

-Derrick