Created with RNI Films app. Preset ‘Kodak Gold 200 v.5’
Created with RNI Films app. Preset ‘Kodak Gold 200 v.5’
Created with RNI Films app. Preset ‘Kodak Gold 200 v.5’
Created with RNI Films app. Preset ‘Kodak Gold 200 v.5’
Created with RNI Films app. Preset ‘Kodak Gold 200 v.5’
Created with RNI Films app. Preset ‘Kodak Gold 200 v.3’
Created with RNI Films app. Preset ‘Kodak Gold 200 v.5’
The way we treat our phones now, I supposed getting my iPhone 13 mini was like getting a new camera.
So I took it for a spin on a sunny Sunday in late September, a few days after receiving it in the mail. And just as I figured, it was just as my iPhone SE was: a camera. Simple.
The new wide-angle lens on this iPhone is fun to play around with, but it’s not really my style. I’m more of a 35-50mm guy. Having that wide of a view may be good for landscapes and dramatic shots with fun angles, but it doesn’t fit my photography. In fact, I wish the mini iPhones had the Pros’ telephoto lens instead. I’d use that much more.
That said, I may be able to use the nifty portrait settings on the front-facing camera to try out some people shots. Here’s me with a fresh haircut:
Not bad, considering the subject. The fake bokeh is pleasant, but the high-key options are a bit garish.
The only thing I’m missing now is a tried-and-true photo editing app on the iPhone. My beloved Filmborn is MIA from the App store, VSCO is a confusing mess, and that leaves RNI Films and Darkroom in my list of go-to editing apps.
In these waning days of summer, we took a walk to the nearby elementary school. This one was built in 1952, but a brand-new school just went up next door, so the old one sits empty. Out with the old, etc.
Personally, I love the look and feel of these mid-century schools – the way they used green space, and their institutional sturdiness. The new school is all shiny metal and modern touches, though the larger parking lot will be a nice change.
It had me thinking about my iPhone SE, the 2016 first-gen model based on the iPhone 5S body design. I’ve had this phone for five years now and used the ever-loving heck out of it. It’s survived two jobs, a new kid, and a new house, along with everything else I’ve thrown at it.
But today I ordered the iPhone 13 mini – not for any of its fancy new features, including the new camera system. It’s mostly because I need the extra storage space; 256 GB will get me a lot farther than my current 64 GB does.
The truth is, my iPhone SE camera works just fine. I point, I shoot, I edit a little bit (using mostly Filmborn these days – which may be abandoned software), and I post. Maybe I’ll enjoy using the ultra-wide lens on the 13, maybe I’ll find a use for those studio lighting settings, or maybe not. Maybe I’ll continue to use my iPhone camera like I do my other Canon cameras: simply, with no fuss.
I will miss the SE’s classic design and small size, and Touch ID. But five years is a lot of value out of a modern-day device.
When your favorite band or musicians compiles a greatest hits album, it’s usually a collection of their singles and fan favorites. Over a long career, a productive band or artist will have enough singles to make a good greatest hits record. Take Genesis or the Temptations – multi-decade output combined with hit singles makes for a representation of the artists’ career.
Now, a greatest hits album may not include your favorite song from that musical act’s portfolio. For me, “Supper’s Ready” is my go-to Genesis song, but it’s not considered a “greatest hit” on their album. Too long or too weird, I imagine.
How about for visual artistic output? How does one compile a list of “greatest hits” in photography, painting, or video work? Do you pick your favorites, or someone else’s favorites?
Brooks Jensen at LensWork had me thinking about my own work, and what I would consider my best pictures. In fact, I recently submitted a few images to Flickr’s World Photography Day contest. I had to think about what are my best people and nature images, out of all the hundreds and maybe thousands I’ve taken over the years. It was a tough exercise, combing through and wondering, what are my “greatest hits?”
Do I pick the popular images? Or the ones I consider to be my best? If I start picking my favorites, it could be a random picture of one of my kids, one that I hold dearly in my heart.
It’s the same if you’ve ever had to develop a portfolio of images to share with others: your best wedding photographs, or your top artistic representations. How do you pick?
Like musicians, it could be a combination of popularity along with your own personal tastes that make a “greatest hits” collection. If the Rolling Stones don’t want to play a popular song, they leave it off the playlist – no sense in spending effort on a song for which the band has no passion, right?
Looking at photography and our best-of list, we can use the same metric to guide us: what do people like? What do I like, too?
Even though our local county fair has a new layout, and even if I was a bit nervous being around so many people, I used the return of our fair as a photo walk.
Over the years, the county fair has been one of my favorite photography subjects: the bright colors, the summer haze, the motion, and the prime people watching. For one night, we did the family outing, and for the other night, I went by myself to concentrate on photography.
I took my trusty Canon 5D and three lenses – 20mm, 50mm, and 100mm – to add some variety. In the end, I wound up mostly using the reliable 50mm, but the 100mm allowed me to get some people shots from a (social) distance.
It was a hot, sweaty night, as it usually is in August, full of fried smells and flashing lights.
Living in Michigan, no matter where you are in the state, you’re never more than an hour or two away from one of the Great Lakes.
Our proximity to these bodies of water inspires so many of our summer family vacations. This year, we went north to the Traverse City and Leelanau Peninsula region. We love our Door County, Wisconsin vacations so much that we wanted a similar experience this summer. With its apple and cherry orchards, numerous lakes, and varied landscape, the peninsula provided everything we look for in a holiday.
Despite the rain, we had a great vacation – a great mix of playing outdoors, relaxing by the lake, and exploring M-22 and the Sleeping Bear Dunes.
A funny thing happened at the world-renowned dunes: we visited during a particularly foggy day, where all of Lake Michigan was enshrouded in a heavy vapor. From the top of the dunes, you couldn’t see the lake at all.
We all looked on in amazement. It’s like we were staring at the edge of creation – down the dunes, you would fall off the end of the world.
Luckily, further north along the dunes, we did find a place to sit on the beach and swim in Lake Michigan.
Our state is fairly average in almost every way – except the scenery. If this is the edge of the world, we’re happy to be here.
While it’s a bittersweet emotion, nostalgia can be used to “counteract loneliness, boredom, and anxiety.” Think of that feeling you get when you flip through an old photo album, or listen to a favorite album. Nostalgia, while wistful, helps you think of good memories. It’s grounding, and gives you roots.
Maybe that’s why I’ve been on a nostalgiafest here lately. In the past year, I’ve made a point to relive things from my past that, at one point, I knew I loved. The feeling is especially strong with movies: I watched (and continue to watch) a ton of movies growing up. Now, I’m revisiting those late ’80s and early ’90s films that I watched over and over again (and haven’t watched since), primarily comedy classics like Major League, Funny Farm, and Naked Gun. For one, they’re funny, and those movies brighten my mood.
And two, I have great feelings associated with those 30-year old films. With the pandemic and all the anxiety surrounding it, it’s nice to dip into the past and relive something that’s fun and frivolous.
It’s the same with classic books – Frog and Toad with the kids, say – and albums. I’m even browsing through my Lightroom catalog from years past and scrolling through my iPhone photo library to remember the times when I took a ton of pictures. Remember that?
I think about that scene in Inside Out where the memory globes become bi-colored – both joyful and sad. Memories are rarely pure joy or pure sadness. Nostalgic feelings, especially, have twinges of melancholy with the feel-good moments.
That’s how I feel: a little good, a little crummy. So I’m feeding that with nostalgia in all its forms.
Much like our vacation last summer, for spring break earlier this month, we went all natural and took a quick trip to the Smoky Mountains of Tennessee.
Sticking mainly to the national park, we enjoyed the fresh spring air of the Appalachians. And what scenery: lovely mountain streams following us along the roadways, vistas not yet obscured by tree foliage, and the winter melt trickling down from the mountainsides, creating little waterfalls everywhere we went.
After a mild winter, it was good to get outside and tire ourselves out.
I took along my handy little Canon EOS M with the EF-M 22mm f/2 – or as I call it, the Family Camera. It goes with us on every road trip. Over the years, it’s definitely earned its share of bumps and bruises, but it’s small and light, and the picture quality still can’t be beaten – almost 10 years later.
The 35mm equivalent focal length is wide enough to get these lovely landscape shots, and I can bring it in closer for shots of the kids or super close-up shots of flowers or details. While the autofocus is lousy, I don’t need it to catch quick-moving subjects too often. It’s a clumsy, deliberate camera, and I still love it.
I’ll probably drop it down a cliff or forget it at some roadside diner on one of our family vacations someday. If it ever needs replacing, I’d be satisfied with a white M2 “upgrade.”
For now, the M is in the “good enough” category. It captured those scenic Tennessee landscapes perfectly and came home to tell the tale.
Mostly, I still feel like I’m in my early to mid 30s. Thirty – now THAT birthday felt monumental: buying a new house, switching jobs. A lot changed that year.
This year? We’re still stuck in a pandemic. I’ve felt on hold for the last 12 months. Maybe I can just skip this birthday?
No, of course not. But mentally, I’m not 40. Perhaps it’s denial. Halfway through life, I feel like I’ve done a tremendous amount of things. Knowing me, I’ve got many more projects on the horizon.
Like my “Thirty Six” project. I just remembered I have that one still unfinished. Time to look through some film photos from four years ago…
For those of us that embrace it, part of living the liberal arts lifestyle is you’re interested in everything. You get to know a little about a lot, which makes you great at trivia, but maybe not so great at developing a long-term skillset. “A mile wide and an inch deep,” and all those other cliches, come from a place of truth.
I have 20 different ciders and beers in my fridge because VaRiETy iS thE sPIce oF LiFe or something.
This is true for hobbies as well, and as I look back, I can see the corpses of a handful of hobbies I’ve picked up, absorbed, and then left behind. It’s had me thinking about why I do this sort of thing, and what are the downsides. Is there any relief for this sort of “serial hobby” behavior and mindset? Is there anything worth correcting?
What is a “serial hobbyist,” anyway? Here’s what The Hobbyist Girl has to say:
Serial hobbyists get fully engrossed in the hobby of the moment, learns as much as she can very quickly, can think of nothing else and does nothing else for a while, then gets bored, loses interest, and moves on to the next shiny new hobby.
I can see all of the above in myself: going from one interest to the next; going all-in on something to learn everything there is about it; all while not ever completely leaving a hobby behind.
Lately, I’ve picked up my Newton Poetry blog after a five-year absence, only to find the blog had shut down sometime in the past due to a WordPress and database error. That’s fixed, but now I’m surrounded by my old Apple Newtons and Macintoshes and reliving some past blogging glory from my previous hobby.
There is something gratifying about rediscovering a hobby, like chatting with a long-lost friend. But it can also be like going out again with an ex, and you start to remember why you left.
Giving some credit to photography – for me, it’s always been there. I’ve consistently been the shutterbug in my family and group of friends. Taking up photography was simply “getting serious” about this ever-present activity. And, it’s been my longest-term hobby, lasting more than 10 years since I picked up my first DSLR (a Canon T1i – remember those?).
Some hobbies stick around forever. I’ve always loved to write, read, spend time outside, play a Mario or Zelda video game, and I’m starting to count photography in that “always” list.
Except for regret, there’s little in terms of downsides to being a serial hobbyist. You do spend money on hobbies, but not so much that your financial wellness is in jeopardy. There are space and clutter considerations, and that became the big issue with my classic Mac collecting. When I bought my first house, I had more space to collect – but it made me stop and think, “Do I really want to fill up my new home with G3-era Macs?” So I stopped.
Photography can be an expensive hobby, but it can generate income as well. Most of my new gear was paid for by doing wedding gigs. Now, I’ve pretty much stopped collecting any new photography gear because I have everything I’d ever need. Any new acquisitions were mostly gifts from people who knew I was a photographer – in fact, that’s how I received most of my film cameras. Still, all of that photo gear still only fills two boxes next to my desk.
For me, the biggest downside is – what’s next? What is going to take over my brain and consume all of my short-term passion? Because if the past is any indication, there’s another hobby with my name on it, right around the corner.
And there, too – maybe there’s no downside at all. Maybe this is just me.
Sunshine, a great lake, and lots of fresh air – we needed it.
After Jaime and I took a trip to South Haven a few winters ago, we swore we had to come back. To see that heaved ice hanging onto the shoreline, to see that frost-encrusted lighthouse again. Maybe grab another beloved shot of strangers trudging through the cold.
The lakeshore is like another planet: a mix of sand and ice, and off in the distance an unfrozen lake. The ice in the pier heaved, like the lake was breathing – a living, swelling mass of ice.
I brought along my seldom-used Tamron 24-135mm zoom lens to give it some exercise. I’m usually a prime guy, but with scenery like this, I wanted to be prepared for whatever came up.
We dragged the kids along with the grandparents with us, too. The children were constantly on a precipice: one slip, and we’d lose them to what felt like the void.
On the ride home, we could’ve all fallen asleep. We were tuckered out. All that cold and fresh air did us good.
I love a good, old-fashioned photography blog. Flickr is great, Instagram is mostly trash, Twitter still has some good photography sharing – but a blog? That’s a place I can visit when I want that’s dedicated to the craft.
Take a simple photography blog like Just a Little Patience. Super simple design, minimal text – it’s a place where Johnny Patience shares a lovely picture and a location or a quote. Nothing else. Photos, one after the other.
Because I’m a writer and a photographer, Patrick LaRoque’s blog appeals to me too: it goes deeper, with updates, thoughts, and (plenty of) opinions on the state of the world, the photography business, and his family.
My heart goes to blogs like Just a Little Patience because I appreciate its minimalism. It lets the photos speak for themselves. But my head says I have to do the essay-for-every-photo format. My blog has landed somewhere in the middle, but either way, it’s the sharing part that’s important.
Show your work. Talk about it if you want, but above all, put it out there.
It’s cliche, that old Richard III phrase. But here we are, almost one year later, still dealing with a pandemic and lockdown orders.
I challenged myself to make something out of all this midwinter cold and isolation. It’s finally getting cold, and the snow is sticking around, so I made a point to capture it as I see it: outside the windows of the house that I barely leave.
It’s hard to be creative, stuck inside. We’ve taken a few walks outside. We even went hiking at a local nature center. But by now, that just feels like therapy. The pandemic makes the lower section of Maslow’s hierarchy that much more important.
I did finish my 2020 family photo album. I didn’t take many photos last year, but the ones that I did take really matter. Someday, we’ll look back and remember.
Another creative project: posting iPhone photos to Twitter, just to get them out there. Instagram has been a waste for several years now. Twitter is the only social media network I feel I still enjoy (especially now post-Trump) – why not share some old iPhone images I had captured, edited, and saved for Instagram?
It’s all slow, tough going. But I keep going, as much as I can.
Lately, life – and especially working while at home – has been full of background music channels on YouTube.
Take this Coffee Beats channel. Or this Acid Jazz & Grooves channel. YouTube is full of these kinds of background music channels, with styles ranging from low-fi to chill to jazz to whatever your brain needs. There’s the famous lofi hip hop girl. You can even find some background video game music (just about anything with Animal Crossing works).
I’ve noticed that I’m listening less and less to my kind of music: progressive, metal, rock and roll – the kind of stuff I’d usually listen to on Spotify or my iPod.
With all that’s going on in the world, what my brain needs is something simple – something that can hang out in the background and not get in the way, yet enjoyable enough to not be annoying.
In March, we planned on remodeling our bedroom. And boy, did it need it: wood paneling, dark, drop ceiling. In all fairness to the previous owners, it used to be a back porch. Then it became a bedroom, but that was decades ago. Now it’s our turn to make it right.
Why not start now? We need something lighter and sunnier in our lives right now. Sure, it means we have to sleep in our breezeway for the time being. It means contractors in the house, with their noise and drywall dust. But we’re considering this project our early Christmas present.
Everything is harder these days. My photography has certainly taken a hit. I feel it in my bones – a kind of creator’s guilt, ever-present. Not much blogging, not much newsletter-ing, not much of anything. With the pandemic and the post-election stress, it’s been hard to wake up in the morning, let alone take photos.
Now we have a new look to our bedroom, and with the light coming in, it felt like a good excuse to get out the camera and document the progress.
I’m searching for some serenity in all this chaos. Luckily, we have had a pleasant autumn so far, and we take evening walks to shake off the dread and anxiety.
Now daylight savings has changed the light, and we wake up in the sunshine. It’s good, and much-needed, because the sun won’t be around much from now until spring. I’m trying to capture it as much as possible before the darkness comes.
School has shut down in-person learning until after Thanksgiving. COVID-19 is spreading as usual. The election is over and yet not over.
