Uncertainty and Constants

My new Amazon Kindle 3 came today. Having never really used one before, I wasn't sure what to expect. Having no idea when the delivery man would come, I waited the better part of the day for a mere knock at my door. And when it finally arrived, it was every bit as beautiful as I had hoped.

One quirk with the Kindle is the e-ink display. Using no power to actually display an image (only to change it), the minds over at Amazon thought up a fun way to jazz up standby mode. Instead of showing a blank screen, a random image from the literary world is shown. As I put the device to sleep moments ago with every intention of falling asleep myself, an image of John Steinbeck appeared on the screen. Having read his works in the past, but never putting a face to the name, it was somewhat of a pleasant surprise. And in many ways, this element of uncertainty in that quick flash of the e-ink proved to be for the better.

As a photographer, uncertainty is a part of my everyday life, at least when a camera is involved. Whenever I'm shooting an event, posing a model, or simply hanging out in the waves waiting for a good swell, I'm never sure what my camera will capture. Sometimes it's good, sometimes it's mediocre. The lighting can change at a moment's notice. The settings on my camera might happen to be wrong. There could be a giant smudge on my image sensor, and I'd never know it until reviewing my images. All of these factors make photography more difficult. Yet at the same time, they make it all the more interesting as well.

As beautiful as all this might sound, that joy for uncertainty doesn't translate over well into most other circumstances. When your life is as unorganized as mine is at this point in time, you tend to cherish and cling on to every little ounce of certainty you can muster up. Hearing a solid answer, be it "yes" or "no," is a thousand times more pleasing to the ear than the dreaded word "maybe." Why is it, then, that the word "maybe" has continued to haunt me over the past few months? Plans for a trip of Kerouac proportions fell through with a thud. The pleasant equilibrium I reached in my workflow was blown to pieces by last-minute hardware changes. Even my allergies can't decide for certain whether or not they'll plot to kill me on any given day.

Despite all this, there are still a few (relative) constants that I know I can hold on to in my daily life. Be they talents, beliefs or relationships, these constants have proven time and time again to be the anchors that get me through till morning. That is, unless they impede with the very act of sleeping itself, as the constant pile of laundry on my bed so sourly beckons me to fold it.

Another Dirt Cheap Lens

Photography is notoriously expensive. With cameras running upwards of $400 for a basic model body, and a good lens usually costing at least $250 or more, photographers quickly go broke working their way up to a respectable kit. For those who don't make a living off of the art, however, one can get by on some unorthodox gear choices. And if one has luck in the realm of bargain shopping, the act of scouting out cheap gear can become a game within itself.

What you see above was taken with such a lens. Though it is a pretty poor sample shot, it shows you that a decently artistic photo can be crafted on the cheap. And what glass was responsible for this picture? Photographed below, this lens is a prime (ha!) example of a dirt cheap lens. My second thrift store lens (in recent years) for $7, this baby isn't without its flaws. Unlike my first $7 lens, a 50mm Pentax-M f2 that was covered in grime but cleaned up nicely, this latest find isn't in full operational condition. Though physically clean with clear glass, this Sears 28mm f2.8 lens seems to have aperture blades stuck wide open at f2.8. For casual shooting, this isn't much of an issue, as I usually keep my glass open in most situations. And for $7, I'm not complaining in the least bit.

At this point, I fully intend on purchasing a Sony NEX-5 camera as soon as it is widely released. And assuming that a Pentax-K to E-Mount adapter will be available from third party vendors in short time, it would be nice to have a collection of cheap prime lenses to use on such a tiny body for casual and street shooting. Though I wont go out of my way to purchases lenses for such a use, there's no harm in having "extras" lying around. And often times, working within the constraints of manual focus and exposure forces you to critically examine potential shots in new ways.

Sony NEX-5, Elusive Summer Gadget

A quick intro to the current state of digital cameras. For the most part, you've got point-and-shoots, and DSLRs. DSLRs have a mirror that flips up inside, allowing you to look through the lens itself when you use the viewfinder. DSLRs have a much larger sensor than point-and-shoots, allowing for much higher image quality as well. Recently, the new Micro Four-Thirds standard attempted to bridge the divide between point-and-shoots and DSLRs, by removing the mirror element and maintaining a larger sensor with a live image displayed on a screen. But the sensor in Micro Four-Thirds cameras is still much smaller than the (still cropped) APS-C sensor found in most DSLRs. This is where Sony comes into play.


Image via dpreview.com

What you see here is the new Sony NEX-5 camera, coming out this July. It features a full APS-C sensor in the smallest mirror-less interchangeable lens system to date. Retailing at $650 with a 16mm f2.8 pancake and $700 with an 18-55mm zoom lens, both crafted out of metal and not plastic like most modern lenses, the cost is a steal for the phenomenal image quality that samples have produced thus far. In many ways, it even surpasses my current Pentax body. For those looking for a cheaper option, Sony is also releasing the NEX-3 with plastic housing (as opposed to the metal casing of the NEX-5) and reduced video options, but with a $100 savings.

While nothing is set in stone, there's a very good chance that the NEX-5 (with the 18-55mm lens) will become my new secondary body. As of late, I've been taking my primary camera everywhere I go, which gets rather cumbersome and challenging depending on the circumstance. If I had a camera with identical image quality, better video capabilities and more casual features in an incredibly small form factor, I would definitely feel safer bringing that instead. Though it could never replace the pure power that having an optical viewfinder provides, mirror-less interchangeable lens cameras fill an interesting niche in the increasingly diverse camera market. And there's a very real chance I'll own a piece of this revolution come later this summer.

The Picture

This is the picture. The fabled photograph that has eluded me for the better part of two years. It all started in the summer of 2008, when I first wanted to capture the milky way out in the Anza Borrego desert. While I made it out there in August of that year, my camera at that time could only muster a grainy image, and my results were far from ideal. Fast forward to 2010. My goal of capturing this image came back to me a few months ago, and was first attempted in the form of a failed back-of-a-motorcycle ride that was abandoned before it even started. Attempts at camping trips timed correctly with the lunar cycles and good air quality all proved unsuccessful over the next few weeks and months, until a window of opportunity finally presented itself. Taking only my Nissan packed with as much gear as possible, a quick camping trip finally allowed me to capture this image last Friday night.

Yes, it's still grainy. With my current cropped-sensor camera, it's literally the best that I can do. But this hasn't stopped me from calling this photograph a success. And for ISO 6400, you have to admit that it's not too terribly bad either. Unless a stranger randomly donates a Canon 5D Mark II to my cause, I'll just have to be content with what I've got. It's not the best Milky Way photograph I've taken, but it's the one I've most anticipated. And I'm glad it could finally happen.

Gas Station, Borrego Springs

I was lucky enough to take another trip out to Anza Borrego State Park these past few days, and managed to take my paper photography gear with me. Luckily, my friends are amazing, and let me take the long exposures required to get these shots right! The image below was taken of a gas station in Borrego Springs, which had only a single pump. Though the street was busy and people came and went, the long exposure made them disappear, and makes it look as though the station is abandoned. So far, this might be my favorite shot with this new method.

Paper Photography

I'm working on perfecting a photography technique right now that I've never actually seen done before. Based on the readings of a technique called Solargraphy, in which one documents the tracks made by the sun using a homemade pinhole camera and photographic paper as a film medium, this method I'm developing now harnesses a similar quirk of the photo process.

Photographic paper, the stuff that black and white photographers use in the dark room, is usually extremely sensitive to light, as it is developed and fixed in chemicals that bring out an image captured in a matter of seconds on the paper. But because it is so light sensitive, photographic paper also darkens when exposed to sunlight, which (in a sense) overexposes it to the point of visibility. Solargraphy utilizes this same quirk of the paper to let it act as a negative, capturing an image over the span of a matter of months. But Solargraphy uses a tiny pinhole, which lets in a minuscule amount of light. What if you used an actual camera, with a wide-aperture lens?

This is the result. Each one of these images takes anywhere from 15 minutes to 2 hours to capture, depending on how bright the sun is. The "negative" that is created on the photographic paper is extremely impermanent, due to the fact that it cannot be fixed to halt any reactions that might occur. You basically get one chance to scan in the negative, after which the negative becomes even more faded from the light in the scanner. The images created with these methods are ethereal and oddly timeless, using unorthodox techniques to call back to a time when photography was much more inconvenient and difficult to master. It's a far cry from the digital cameras that we're so used to now, and it really makes you appreciate just how special the art of photography is.

I'm not sure I'd say that I invented a new technique. In all honesty, I'm not that clever. Someone must have done this before me, I simply can't find any record of it. Still, on a personal level, I came up with the idea on my own. And sometimes, experimentation of this sort is worthwhile to achieve results such as these. There's nothing fancy about this. No film is used, no developing is needed. Chemicals are unnecessary, and you only get one shot to get things right.

Spring At Last!

Spring in San Diego is a beautiful sight to behold. For most of the year, this lovely city is usually blanketed in a layer of brown and tan, due to the fact that we normally have very little water to let things grow. With the high amount of rain this winter though and a general warming trend, things have started to sprout. This is a perfect time to get out and photograph the green and rainbows of colors blossoming all around.

This photograph, though taken in August 2008, reminds me of this time of the year. It's a great example of using bokeh to enhance an image, and is one of my favorite stylistic tools for general use in photography. It was captured in Julian, California behind the Julian Pie Company restaurant on Main Street.

Desert Oasis

I am in love with the desert. I can't stop thinking about it, as silly as it sounds. For me, the desert is a place where you can go to feel free. I'm not talking about big hoards of people in trailers with off-road vehicles tearing up the landscape. I'm talking about a preserved wilderness, with the only human intervention being the occasional hiker, and the lone SUV or Jeep that travels down a sunken wash. It is here that solitude exists, and rises to glory. Conditions can be rough. It can get pretty cold at night, and dangerously hot during the day. But in the desert, you've gone back to an earlier time. Camping out, you live like people centuries ago went about their daily lives (to a degree). You're alone with yourself, and it is marvelous.

I'm lucky enough to have amazing friends who will go with me on crazy adventures to this vast and unpredictable wilderness. And they're even more amazing for putting up with my constant need to snap another photo. If I could change anything, my only wish would be to get out there more often, and for longer periods of time. Whether you've brought an entire expedition's worth of supplies and equipment, or you're simply living off of what can fit in a backpack or the trunk of a car, every excursion into the desert is truly an adventure for me.