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.
