Sometimes I wish days could have oh… I don’t know… Eight, ten more hours? Of course I’d then need the physical capacity to actually use those extra hours for more than just sleep.
Sleep. Now there’s a nice thought…
I’m out of the social loop right now. Ten days, three projects & a little over 11000 shutter actuations will do that to you. I’m knee deep in editing and processing, leaving me very little time for blogging or sharing anything substantial. Or even replying to recent comments and emails - for which I do apologize.
The obvious takeaway from this recent work is my unfortunate need for DSLR gear. I say unfortunate because when used side by side with an X100 two things become immediately clear:
- I prefer by far the images from the Fuji.
- The Nikon kit feels like a tank sitting on top of an aircraft carrier shooting giant guided missiles. Loud & heavy you say? Uh, yeah.
It does work though. And until I can get an X series camera with a fast 200mm that can track moving subjects… I’m stuck with the aircraft carrier. But it’s also clear to me I won’t be investing further in that platform. I’ll just be keeping what I need for the time being and unless something important comes up to change the situation, I won’t be looking for an upgrade. Truth be told, everything about this kit now feels cumbersome & archaic, even though I’m well aware of how subjective this is. There’s nothing wrong with it per se - in the end it’s still a tool that fills its purpose - but I find myself longing for another way.
Some of my favourite pictures from last week were taken in silence, crouching in shadows, waiting for the right moment while a scene evolved on its own. Shooting this way fills me with tremendous joy. It removes me from the hard, mechanical reality of the gear, leaving only the motions of life waiting to be stopped, to be frozen and held as something out of time, contemplated.
With every thundering smash of a DSLR’s shutter I’m brought back to earth, the spell broken.
I had an X-Pro1 last night. Almost. Dreamt I’d received it as a gift, second-hand (as if!). It makes me sound a bit obsessed doesn’t it? But I believe my obsession isn’t so much with technology as it is with a new way - some would say an old way. An obsession with disappearing, with becoming this soundless, wisp-like creature that exists only to see.
More and more I’m finding myself pulled towards adaptation in lieu of control. A voyeur instead of a director. Then again, that might just be the truly impossible dream…
UPDATE: I realized last night that I’d already posted the first image of the series below in a previous blog post - I’ve now switched it to a new one. I guess I’m more tired than I thought ;)