While I'm feeling the need to post something again (its been two weeks already) as usual I'm struck rather dumb on the subject of subject matter. Truth is, the camera has not been out that much lately so in order to post a pic I'm obliged to throw out one from last month.
The flower is called Fire Pink (Silene virginica) and this is the most representative shot I have taken of this species. They are not uncommon around here, but I've only encountered them a few times with a camera.
This time I happened to be carrying my favorite M42 lenses: an old MF Tamron f2.5 90mm macro (model 52B), an even older Yashinon DX f1.4 50mm, and a Focal f2.8 28mm lens (yes, I think it was a K-mart brand). I honestly don't recall which lens I used for this image. Not that it matters. I like looking at it just because it was taken with one of my favorite lenses, which one is kind of irrelevent. Silly, I know, but that's the truth of things.
Over the years I have had a number of "favorite lenses." When I was using film I grew ever fond of an old 55mm Nikkor macro. Later, using digital, I got a case of the M42 lens crazies and waded through about half a dozen favorite lenses in just a few years. No longer. I have settled on this core of three that I shoot with most everytime I go out. (I'm still looking for a WA prime to fit into the mix, but I havn't found one yet that works the way I would like.)
Three is a comfortable number. I like the way they fit into my little bag with plenty of room for them, all the other junk I need, and no wasted space left over. Adding another lens upsets the natural order of things and forces me to make choices... either leave something behind or carry something extra. Neither is appealing. Oh well, at least I have something to angst over.
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Byrne’s Law #26: Change is the mother of nostalgia.
Lens technology rolls along like thunder from a distant storm. But is the storm coming or going? Nostalgia is the shudder of aftershock.
For twenty years I was a Nikon cultey. Until softness fatigue set in. See, try as I might … none of the six Nikor lenses I owned ever produced edges sharp enough to shave with. For bodies I used an Ftn and a Nikormat. The contrasts were fine, but even with a tripod firmer than Tut’s pyramid – line edge were duller than Joy Behar’s wit. So, when I moved to digital, Nikkor’s reputation-buzz was veiled in a patina of experience. The legend of Canon’s optics sang to me like sirens under glass. So I converted.
Are brand followers like adults born into a religion or political party? Maybe, and maybe as someone facing a crisis of tech, I was looking for some sort of alternative salvation. Cleary I’d become a fallen away Nikonista.
If the future is not a rift with the present Michael, it is not the future. So now my search for the perfect image is done through Canon glass… And the images are sharp enough to draw blood. But my pictures are… are… still the same pictures I learned to take through Nikors. Just sharper… Am I nostalgic for Nikon? Hmmm…. Remember when Shel Silverstein wrote:
I went to find the pot of gold
That's waiting where the
rainbow ends.
I searched & searched & searched
And searched & searched & then-
There it was, deep in the grass,
Under an old & twisty bough.
It's mine, it's mine, it's mine at last...
What do I search for now?
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