I've always been fascinated by macro photography, but had never ventured into
that small world for fear of getting sucked in. Then I remembered that I'm
taking pictures simply because it's fun (and presents a good challenge). Why not try macro!
So last week I finally broke down and bought a macro lens (the Canon EF 100mm
F2.8) which arrived today. Now, the first thing you're supposed to do with a
macro lens is shoot a big hairy insect. Trust me, I'll get there. But bugs
don't just stand still, which is unfortunate when you're trying to practice
with a new lens. And it snowed overnight here, which means the springtime bugs
aren't out yet (but the ones that are definitely stand still!).
So instead of stalking insects, I thought I'd try a close-up of a fairly old
comic book. I know, you're supposed to shoot macro straight at the subject, but flat pages aren't very interesting. I like the way the pixels give it texture. Many thanks to Duncan for help with the color
correction in Lightroom. That's a whole different challenge in itself, though equally enjoyable.
All the photography books say this, and they're absolutely right: You need a
tripod
to do this. When you get dialed in on the details, you feel every little
vibration. I've also been using a shutter release cable to bump my odds of
getting tack-sharp shots. (Yeah, the mirror lock trick comes next.) In this
case, I switched over to manual focus because auto-focus was squirrelly.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. Comments in Flickr are always appreciated!
For today's photo project, I played with pushing light around. It's surprisingly fun and easy. In this case, the background happens to be my cinema display turned off with white paper reflecting natural light from a window.
Happy Easter!
I'm a newb. No doubt, I'm still wet behind the ears when it comes to
photography. I've heard some of the jargon, but I'd make a fool of myself at a
photographer's party. I read blogs and articles, but I'm not even ready to
participate in the comments. I own some respectable gear, but I still only use
a fraction of the features. I enjoy taking pictures, but I rely on simple
principles rather than intuition. I'm always looking for "the shot",
but I often miss it.
Yes indeed, I'm a humble newb. It's a perspective that is teaching me more
than photography. I'm learning how important it is to always be a passionate
newb at something. It's fun to learn new things. At the same time, always
being a newb in a community helps you appreciate the challenges faced by newbs
trying to participate in communities in which you're no longer the newb. When
does the newb get a chance to come up to speed with the jargon and gear? How
do they equip themselves to transition from a consumer of the community's
efforts to a producer of value in the community?
So I was delighted to see that today is Newb
Catch-up Day over at Strobist.
Now using off-camera flash for more effective lighting is advanced stuff, and
if you start by reading a typical day's post on Strobist, you'll soon feel
unworthy. But today is special! Today they've posted a great video that walks
aspiring strobists through the basic terminology and gear. And to help you
navigate the growing knowledge base on this topic, they also have a collection
of posts called Lighting
101.
Kudos to Strobist for understanding the need for a newb catch-up day and executing on it. It's clever—everybody wins!
I carried this camera bag with me almost everywhere in Kauai, and I'm still loving it. The sling design with the flip top makes it super easy (and safe!) to switch lenses while on the go. And all the padding gives the gear a smooth ride in any terrain. I haven't loaded up the front pocket much, but it seems agreeable to various accessories.
I'm looking forward to many more miles together...
Lately I've been pushing myself to take more pictures, study the photography craft, and dive deeper into Lightroom. It's something I enjoy immensely,
and yet I don't
practice
it enough.
Critique is an important part of practicing. So from time to time I'll post pictures here just to spice things up a bit. Each of them will be linked to my Flickr photostream where I'd enjoy hearing what you like, what you don't, and adjustments you'd recommend.
Here's a recent shot:
Over the holidays, we hiked down to one of our favorite fishing holes along the Missouri River in Montana and hooked a couple nice Rainbows.
You know you've been programming too much when you spot this train and the picture title immediately pops into your head.
"...devotion to process is what informs craft... craft becomes art only after long, hard work."
— Frank Van Riper, photographer and journalist
From Practice Mutha, Practice:
"Of course the excuses that photographers make are legion; 'I don't have the time (or money) to go anywhere really exciting.' Or, 'The weather is too nasty.' Or any one of a dozen other excuses that we all use to justify browsing the Net, watching TV, or other leisure activity with which we fill our time. Then when the opportunity to do some serious photography arises, what happens? Often as not we fumble with our gear due to unfamiliarity, and we also wonder why we are having a hard time 'seeing' anything worthwhile."
Fumbling with the gear is the telltale sign that I'm out of practice with my craft. When the good light shines for that magical moment, I'm fumbling with the camera controls. When the frustration that is writer's block finally breaks loose with a steady flow of words, I'm fumbling with the text editor or blogging toolchain. When the pressure of a software project is on, I'm fumbling with API references, debuggers, version control systems, and assorted gear.
When I'm out of practice, I'm always busy fumbling with the gear. And day by day, the enjoyment of the craft is replaced by the tedium of work.
Again from Practice Mutha, Practice:
"Don't take pictures of your kids or your cats. Too easy. Take photographs of other things that fascinate you. Take pictures of things that upset or repulse you. Push yourself a little."
Practice is essential, but it comes with a built-in danger: the comfort zone. In many ways it's worse than not practicing at all. When I miss the opportunity of a stunning photograph because I forgot how to run my camera, I'm motivated to not miss the next one. I want to practice. But when I've practiced to the point that I deftly capture every shot, what motivates me to push on to the next level?
It takes practice to recognize when it's time to move on. And it's never easy to leave the comfort of the known for the risk of the unknown. But we can only endure so many pictures of cats.
