Getting that Elusive Lucky Shot

You want to know the secret to getting a lucky shot? The absolute holy grail of photographer knowledge, seemingly eluding would-be artists throughout the century and a half that photography has been around? Don't worry, we're in the same boat. No matter how hard anyone tries, there just isn't a perfect formula for capturing the perfect picture. Some people prefer the "take photos sparingly" method, wherein the massive storage capacities of digital photography are ignored in lieu of a nostalgic idea that taking fewer frames forces one to focus more on form and content. Others just snap away like hell until their card is full. At the Ron Paul event at UCSD this past Friday night, I was definitely in the latter camp.

Presidential candidate Ron Paul waits in his vehicle prior to entering the stage during a gathering at the University of California, San Diego

Regardless of the fact that I was a pretty decent distance from his vehicle, and that I had to hold up my camera with its massive lens high above the crowd to even avoid getting an obscured shot, Ron Paul just happened to glance at my camera during the exact moment that I pressed the shutter button. And glance might be an understatement. At full size, it's clear that Ron Paul's face has some motion blur on it, a function of the fact that he wasn't posing for my camera in the least bit. Still, regardless of his or my intention at this specific moment in time, the outcome is a one-in-a-million photograph that I can add to my collection.

The rarity of such a photograph is also interesting in the context of the current age of digital communication that we live in. Nowadays, with the prevalence of smartphones and easy-to-use pocketable cameras, few people travel about without a camera on their person. Did Ron Paul catch a glance at me because my lens stuck out like a sore thumb in the crowd of cameraphones? Or was it a fluke of nature, a "right place at the right time" sort of deal? I'm not sure. And I'm not sure if there's any way to ever be sure. Herein lies the difficulty in giving any sort of advice about capturing the perfect "lucky shot"--it's all about luck, plain and simple. There are things you can do to improve your odds at capturing a great photograph, like equipping yourself with the proper gear, or attending events where you'll have a chance to take interesting photos, but anything more is often out of your control. The best weapon at your disposal is your own will to get out there and take photos. Now that cameras have become so commonplace, however, it seems somewhat odd that so many "non-photographers" are willing to go out and take photographs everywhere they go, whereas many photographers find it much easier to stay at home and hoard over their gear (myself included, more often than not).

If this is the case, then what's the point of spending the entire rally holding your cell phone high in the air to record a speech given by a public figure that you know full-well will be available online by the time you get home? Well, there's no easy answer. Everyone has their own motivations, and whether or not they can articulate or pinpoint their specific intent is irrelevant. In my own case, the reason I spent the entire rally holding up a heavy camera (and taking over six hundred photos in the process) was a blatant desire to capture a shot that I could add to my portfolio. For others in the crowd, photographs might serve a communicative purpose, wherein an individual might snap a photograph on a phone and tweet it out moments later. Still, for many individuals, the reason to capture an event already inundated with cameras comes down to memory. A photograph can act as a marker, a personal statement saying "I was there." Even if this photo is never printed or shared, and merely lives in a virtual album on the user's mobile phone, it still serves as a bookmark of sorts. It is a folded page in the annals of one's own narrative, another stamp in the passport of life.

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.

Remote Decay

I have an itch for exploration. It's often hard to find places close to my home that I haven't been to before, but every so often, I find a spot that's new to me. Most of the time, this involves driving great distances and hiking quite a while until I find remoteness and solitude. But the other night was an exception. Following a road I had only been on once before, I ended up in a barren cul-de-sac dotted with eerily rustling trees and shared only by another car minding its own business. The marine layer had already started to work its way in by the time I got there, so my options for photography were few. But I managed to capture a couple of images with my Sony NEX-5 that seem to do the landscape justice. I can only hope that places like this still exist in a few years, before the creep of expanding housing developments overtakes what is left of the region's immediate wilderness.

Adventure, or the Lack Thereof

I'd like to think that I'm an adventurous person. Sometimes I am, sometimes I'm not. It often depends on my mood, and largely how much sleep I've gotten the night before. In many ways, I have a strong adventurous spirit. But it is not always manifested in physical ways. I have a strong sense of enthusiasm for learning new things, for trying out new skills, and for improving my personal capabilities. But often times, when it comes to going out and exploring the world, I suddenly find myself reserved. The idealized version of myself is someone much more physically active and adventuresome, taking on challenges measured in leaps and strides.


Spear fishermen in La Jolla, California

My to-do list of "adventure" seems to be never-ending. I'd love to learn how to surf and snowboard. Rock climbing has always peaked my interest. And scuba diving seems like something I'd get a big kick out of. But even though I have an initiative for self improvement, I have a strange lack of motivation when it comes to tackling these goals. In some ways, I don't even know where to start. And this is further complicated by the fact that I have my whole life ahead of me to spend doing these things. But as someone who wants to go into the field of travel and adventure photography, I'm going to have to rack up many of these skill sets eventually. Or at the very least, I should try to gain back the wonderful sense of challenge that has all but faded.


Climber at the Garden of the Gods, Colorado

I told myself that I would travel this summer, and if the stars align properly, I'll at least get a chance to get out of here for a short bit. Still, that hasn't stopped me from dreaming. In-between spurts of cleaning and organizing today, I randomly planned bits and pieces of a theoretical Jack-Kerouac-style road trip. And it sounds like UCSD, my new school as of this fall, has plenty of opportunities for recreation and adventure. Who knows? Maybe I'll be able to redeem myself and reach that target of an adventurous spirit after all.

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.

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.