Back into the weeds of commerce. Clipping path saturation!

I've written enough about cameras this week. You would think I'm a review site! So I'll write instead about what I'm working on right now in the glamorous and scintillating world of commercial photography. You'll no doubt be so jealous that you'll walk away from your job as chief off shore banking expert at Goldman Sachs to toss your hat in the golden ring of product photography. One day, you to might know the pleasure and satisfaction of ..... the nuts and bolts of photography.

Last Thurs. and Fri. I set up the studio and completed the principal photography for an international client whose H.Q. is located in Germany. Their north American headquarters is here in Austin. I was tasked with photographing 24 medical products displayed on a (shiny) white mannequin (top half of thebody...) against a white background.

We had a product manager, an project manager, a technical specialist to make sure the products were correctly fitted to the mannequin, as well as a person who was there to learn how these kinds of shoots are done so she can supervise her own projects in a different, but related, department. I made coffee and Belinda baked a loaf of pumpkin bread the night before. We also had fresh bagels and creme cheese as assorted fruit. We want to keep our clients well fed.

The products were things like body braces and immobilizing medical devices that might be used for patient who had been subject to trauma or were in recovery from spinal surgeries and neck surgeries. The products were mostly black with some plastic trim pieces in white or mid-gray.

We set up a shooting table in front of a white background and covered the table with shiny white dry erase board material. Since we would need multiple angles of the mannequin+each device I put the mannequin on top of a very basic turntable after covering the turntable with bright white paper.

Exact exposure for this shoot was important because we needed to clearly separate the shiny white mannequin from the pure white background. Important because at some point some poor bastard would need to create two clipping paths per file....with over 90 files.

I used a light meter to carefully meter the background and then the plane of the subject. This is, for me, a tough metering situation since the white in the background had to go texture-less while the mannequin would have to read at about 90% even when printed on so-so four color press paper stock. But I would also have to preserve good, ample detail in the blacks!

We worked our way through all the products and kept notes that will tie each product to a set of filenames/numbers. At each step we got the client's approval and, at the end I had that exhilarating feeling that we'd gotten through the project without a single hiccup. The files were shot simultaneously on two SD cards (because I presumed I had jinxed myself earlier by ragging on the idea of duplicate card slots and redundant back-ups) and immediately ingested into Lightroom with folders created across two hard drives. All that remained for my part of the project would be to go through and clean up the files a bit, make sure they all matched for color (never varied) and tonality, and to quality check them for focus.

Then I asked the project manager how the in-house designer would like the files delivered. What format would she need in order to facilitate the creation of clipping paths? Big Tiffs? .PSDs? Should I deliver them on memory sticks? Add them to a small hard drive that we use to shuttle big files? Upload them to an FTP address? They had always done the clipping paths in the past.

Maybe the designer was overloaded or overbooked. I might never know... but the project manager asked me if I could do the clipping paths. Being customer service oriented (meaning I want my clients to be happy so they'll: A. Pay me. and, B. Use me again), I said "Sure."

Then he gave me the details. We would need one masked layer with just the mannequin with product on a transparent background. We would need a second layer with just the product (no mannequin), complete with a clipping path for the product. In this way the client could easily drop the mannequin+product into a catalog or just grab the clipped product layer alone and pull that into some other use.

What that means to me is very precise selection (via pen tool) for the overall separation from the background. This selection would go through the refined edge process in PhotoShop and I would select "selection with layer mask" in the "select and mask" menu. Then I would duplicate that layer and, again using the selection tool, I would create a clipping path in the top layer around the solo product. I would then select and inverse the path to drop out the rest of the background (including the mannequin) from just this layer. Finally, I would save the entire file in layers and deliver it as (client preference?) a layered Tiff or .PSD file. Uncompressed the Tiff files done in this fashion; with layers, weigh in at 126 megabytes per. That will give me about 11.5 gigabytes of deliverables.

I did a sample file today and sent it along to the client to get confirmation that we are on the "same page" and that this is indeed their preferred methodology. It takes about 20 to 30 minutes to do each file which means we have about three ten hour days of time in front of the computer to celebrate!!! Of course it's all billable time but it's hardly as captivating as sitting around on Maui with a bunch of bikini models, sipping Cuba Libr├ęs and waiting for the light to get neat...

If you wonder why I fantasize about cameras and lenses too often it's probably a direct result of enforced captivity...and a convenient conduit to the internet.

Before all you smart guys rush to tell me all about some clipping services in India that will do this stuff for a song please let me interject that I've been down that road a couple of times and each time I rushed to re-do the work before delivering it to my clients. There is a difference between a ho-hum factory clipping path and careful precision. If you have the right clients then the clients will know. Because, you know, the client's art directors and designers know just as much about good clipping paths as we do....

My workaround is to split the job with my art director/designer wife/partner and share the excitement!!!
Of course, she'll charge me her regular rate but I know her paths will be immaculate and unimpeachable. And that's about all you can ask for in 2017.

Excited? Wanna join in the fun? If you just adore doing clipping paths and need a nice hobby I can send you a folder full of files just waiting to be clipped. And if you own an ad agency in Toronto and can think of a better method than the one I outlined I can send you the files instead... :-)

And that's what we're doing here in the world headquarters for the rest of the week. Enjoying the amazing benefits of the freelance lifestyle --- tied to my desk chair.


Maybe creativity and technology exist on a spectrum. The further you go to one side the more stuff becomes art. The further you go to the other side.....

I tend to vacillate like a sine wave between camera equipment with very high resolution and lots and lots of controls, and gear that some might consider pedestrian or incapable of producing the good results under all circumstances. I bounced from a Nikon D810 to a super zoom camera. From a Sony A7Rii to a gaggle of pygmy-sensored Panasonic cameras. It's never a completely conscious decision but I think I've worked out what my motivation is for the changing systems. 

I buy a high performance, do-everything camera and a bag full of choice lenses because I buy into the fear that most photographers experience. It comes from the idea that if your work isn't strong enough, or interesting enough, then maybe it's your gear that's holding you back. Bad, faulty logic but some of us are highly susceptible to it.

So I splash out hard cash to buy (or re-buy) whatever the best camera of the moment is and I start using it for everything. But the process becomes too routine and too easy. You can routinely fuck up and the camera will save you. You get sloppy. You get complacent. You know that if you just shoot raw with something like an A7Rii all you have to do it get stuff reasonable in focus and the rest you can fix after the fact. Did your boredom with the gear lead you to ignore technique and now you have overexposed frames? No problem, your miracle camera can pull down exposure at least a stop if you shot raw. Were you too busy oggling the models to read the exposure meter? Did you just default to auto because it's all so damn easy? No problem, you can push that underexposed frame up three stops, thanks to Sony sensors (Don't try this at home with Canon cameras....).  And the bottom line is that aesthetically you begin to play to the camera's strengths. Everything is a showcase for dynamic range or infinite detail or ultra-bokeh-ism.

Eventually the cameras become boring and the certainty of knowing you are covered and can produce something that's at least acceptable to a client sucks the nervous energy, the fear of failure, out of the project and makes work just about the work. At some point I get depressed reading that we're all shooting with the alpha---omega of cameras and I crave some fear and some creative adrenaline and some challenge. And that's when the big purge kicks in. The other side of the sine wave. 

I dump all the bourgeoise "safe" and "reliable" gear and start pressing cameras like the RX10iii into service. Or I grab a lens that's nearly as old as I am and put it on the front of a dinky frame camera and try, by sheer force of will, to make that combination make work that's as good as the stuff I can do blindfolded with the $3200 cameras. But more interesting in its imperfections. I think humans, in general, like challenges. If you are operating well above a subsistence/survival level I think you like to show that the art comes from you and not the camera.  That your point of view is more important than the pedigree of your glass. That you don't need a crutch to make interesting or fun photographs. 

That's when I grab the >$1,000 "do everything" compact camera and try to make it sing like a Hasselblad. Because --- if I can make good work with something small and cheap and non-professional it means that the idea worked or the style worked or, even, the point-of-view had value that outweighed the much more mundane idea of perfection

When I'm on this side of the sine wave I generally feel that "perfect" cameras and "state of the art" cameras are for pussies. Until I come across a client with a hand full of purchase orders and a bunch of projects to do. Then the fear kicks back in and I succumb to my own insecurities and head out looking for the next perfect camera. Afraid to risk the promise of cash just to champion a Quixotic quest with lesser cameras.  But in the back of my mind I know I'll be back at the edge of the envelope, down the road. A few months later. Maybe a year...

The same thing goes for the actual work. I'll be busy for weeks at a time, sitting in the studio post processing late into the night, shooting all day. And the more I work the more I wish I had time just to do my own art. But then, when work slows down or stops, I feel unmoored from my business connections. I convince myself I may never bring in another job. I start to fear the void. And then instead of doing my "art" I get busy marketing so I can hook the next tranche of paying work. Which makes me anxious to do my own work all over again....It's a different version of the vicious circle I described above. But it's the best observation I can self-apply in the moment. Go figure...

When I went downtown to see the new library I took a cheap body and two ancient lenses. Here's what I saw...

First, a program note. I was more or less kidding when I wrote my October 28th post indicating that I might lunge for a Fuji camera. I'm not. The X-Pro-2 is very pretty but I'm not convinced that the system offers anything I don't already have. You can stop cautioning me against the purchase, or, conversely, you can stop goading me to give it a try. The next camera on my list of "wants" doesn't exist yet but will be the Panasonic GX9. And I'll probably toss Olympus lenses on the front of it.

Today's info: I love the latest Panasonic cameras and the coolest Olympus Pro lenses but sometimes you gotta go lower tech just to remind yourself that it's your time and energy that make the photographs, not the provenance of the camera and lens in you hands. Since my options are now much more limited (inventory reduction...) I grabbed my G85 and two ancient Olympus half frame lenses (with adapters), the 20mm f3.5 and the 40mm f1.4. The first half of the post is almost entirely shot with the 20mm f3.5. The second half was almost entirely shot with the 40mm f1.4. There's no real takeaway here other than the idea that getting out and shooting trumps sitting at home with cutting edge glass and a computer screen in front of you. 

I will say that the older lenses have a different (heavier) look to the files they create. 

  40mm below....


So hard deciding what to get myself for my birthday. But I finally nailed it. One day late. Surprise acquisition!!!

continuing the square nostalgia series with the GH5. (And below).  

Lately I've been looking, with some interest, at the Fuji line. Everyone talks it up; especially if they own some. Now, I'm not dissatisfied with the Panasonic and Olympus gear, far from it, my love affair with that system continues more or less unabated. More so after two more very successful (and counterintuitive) assignments. But my photographer brain (nerd brain) is always on the prowl for something that might give my work magic (read: external) powers.

I'd been looking at the Hasselblad X1D kit but it seems a bit pricey for a body with a smallish MF sensor, slow to glitchy AF and only three lenses. The "deal killer" for the kit is that the longest lens is only a 90mm which is more or less equivalent to focal length blah for portrait work. At least my portrait work. The case the system comes in looks nice but a quick glance around the office turns up more nice cases than I could fit in the back of a pick-up truck. I thought of lighting the match on nearly $15,000 but the current model looks like so much "Let's test the market! We'll fix all the horrible mistakes in the next model...." I decided not to become a beta tester again...

Since re-entering the holy order of small sensor shooters via the m4:3 system I have had my eye on the Olympus EM1.2. It seems like a really nice body. Good AF. Great I.S. A nice finder and decent video. But then I took a trip to the camera store and handled it. Until they get Panasonic to subcontract construction of a whole new menu system I'll have to pass. The menu is just too arduous for me to consider. I am, after all, only a humble photographer, not a computer programer/hacker. 

As my birthday burst into its full glory, and clients showered me with fantastic riches, the thought of picking up "just one Fuji camera and just one Fuji lens" started pulling at me; appealing to my most irrational impulses. I've had my eye on the Fuji X-Pro-2 for quite some time because I really love the way the body looks and, by all accounts, the 24 megapixel process they use is supposed to be beautiful and nearly flawless (unless you do raw conversions with Lightroom...). I ventured over to Amazon and put one in my cart, then I went back to reading all the reviews. "Nice handling." "Great images." "Best Pumpkin Spice bokeh!!!" The generally positive reviews, generated no doubt by people's urgent need to justify their purchase, had me nearly hooked. 

My research for Fuji's "perfect lens" just about set that hook. I found something called the XF 56mm f1.2 lens and I had to pause my search for a minute or so to mop up the drool. 

Could a system be a better fit for me? For my momentous, yet-to-come, seminal portrait work? I imagined the creamy bokeh and all the background stuff that would be rendered into a pleasurable visual abyss as I merrily blazed away with the lens wide open. This might be the next step. My monolith on the surface of the moon that would launch my own Odyssey into the unknown regions of photography. Photography as practiced by the idols of my youth. In seconds the lens was in my shopping cart. The justifications could come fast and furiously. I deserved it. No, I needed it. It would be mine. Oh yes, it would be mine...

But my newest resolution stepped in at a critical juncture of the process. It was my recently embraced personal promise to myself to sleep on any potential purchase --- at least overnight. No quick orders after short naps on the couch.

I closed down the machine of mercantile delight (iMac) and headed out to a big wedding at a ranch. We found the open bar and the fabulous barbecue, that should be required at all Texas weddings, and as we sank into the bliss of observed, potential matrimonial optimism for the new couple, in front of a blazing fire pit,  my thoughts shied away from the need to buy MORE CAMERAS AND LENSES NOW. For a few seconds it seemed like a very "Zen" state of mind. Or the influence of Champagne...

We had our first real cold snap last night. The winds whipped the trees around and a great push of weather; a frigid blast from the north, dropped our temperature down to 38 degrees. It was still 40 when I made my way to the spring-fed Deep Eddy Swimming Pool to get in my post birthday swim workout. I had on my down jacket and I assured myself that, since the water temperature should be the same as last time I swam there, I could handle the cold. Just in case I pulled on a second back-up swim suit ("jammer" style) over my first. A little more insulation against the perceived cold.

Belinda had given me a cold weather swim cap and some neoprene swim socks in an attempt at helping me ward off instant hypothermia. I wore them. After I changed into my swim gear I put my down jacket back on and headed down the long stairs to the pool area while being buffeted by the gusting winds.

On Thursday the water temperature had hovered around 72 or 73 degrees and even though the primal immersion had been jarring and uncomfortable on Thurs. I had warmed up quickly and gotten in a nice swim. By the end, that afternoon, I was warmed up and fairly comfortable. But that was then. This morning was different. 

When I got to the deck there was only one person swimming in the pool. It was a younger woman in a full, long sleeved, long legged neoprene wet suit. No one else was in sight. This was something of an irregularity for a Saturday morning. I asked the lifeguard sitting on the nearby stand why no one was swimming. She said she thought most people believed it was too cold. I asked if the water was the same temperature as a couple of days ago and she pointed to a thermometer, sunk in the water and tethered by a thick, white string. It was the same thermometer that told me the pool was 72+ on Thursday. 

I pulled the device up out of the water and glanced at the scale. And then I glanced again. It was reading somewhere between 67 and 68. 

Oh well, I thought, how much difference could 6 or so degrees make in the grand scheme of things? I took several deep breaths and jumped into one of the many empty lanes. The shock of the cold was almost painful. "Get moving!" I kept telling myself. "You'll warm up." 

I swam a hard, fast mile. I was almost afraid to stop. And across the 33.3 yard length of the lane the water varied in temperature. Parts were the same nasty chill I felt getting in but here and there were patches that were even a few degrees colder. By the end of the mile I was feeling the first effects of actual hypothermia. My muscles were tight and I was feeling just a bit shaky. I crawled out of the pool, tossed on my down jacket, and headed up to the open air changing area. I pulled off my swim cap and immediately put on the Polartec cap I'd brought along. I didn't have the courage to wait (a long time) for the hot water to arrive at the shower so just I dressed as quickly as I could and headed to my car to turn on the heater and make an emergency hard target search for the life sustaining miracle of coffee. 

It was in that very moment that I knew which way to go on my birthday purchase. I knew which gear would get my hard earned cash. Not the Hasselblad. Not the Fuji. Not even the newest Leica. 

I headed the car straight to Austin TriCyclist (a very good local shop for triathletes) and begged the owner to supply me with just the right wetsuit for winter swims. Something that would cover my torso and upper arms. Coddle my thighs. Keep my guts at the right operating temperatures. Now I have a wetsuit. All thoughts of new cameras vanishing in the cold depths of the swim. What good is any camera if you can't swim?

I can hardly wait to head back to Deep Eddy Pool tomorrow morning and show the callous and taunting  face of nature that I was not defeated. I'm there for the winter. And I'm ready!

But that X-Pro-2 still looks sexy, right? Like-a  modern day Leica.... And that 56mm. Ooooh. Ahh.


A spectator's seat at the battle of the big cameras. The Sony A7Riii and the Nikon D850.

Just as an aside I find it humorous that back in 2010, about seven years ago, I was testing three medium format cameras and I never once heard from full frame (35mm) or cropped frame (APS-C) shooters that the advent of the new raft of medium format digital cameras would render their current "mini-camera" (35mm style) collection obsolete. Even though the MF cameras were demonstrably and, in some cases amazingly, better image makers I never saw the flood of "must give the clients the best tools in the universe" people who now pontificate about how one must have a 40+ megapixel, full frame camera in order to compete; to even survive, as a professional photographer. They could have had 40 megapixels back then if they truly believed their bravado and had the balls to drop the cash...

Then again, as we all know, all that self-serving gear worship is just so much horse crap. 

But, people love to read about the latest, priciest, most prestigious gear so let's hop into the meat of the blog. Sony A7Riii versus the Nikon D850. TL:DR version = The Sony is the better camera, the better system, the better video camera, the more flexible option and the sensor is pretty much the same. 

Of course I say all this having never handled either camera. I've only read the specifications, listened to people on YouTube who once held the camera in their hands for about the amount of time it takes coffee to cool, and talked to a few industry insiders. In other words, about as much actual experience with the cameras as most of the people out there "reviewing" them. 

Let's start with the Nikon D850. It's basically a Nikon D810 with a few more pixels added to the mix, a vast improvement (but still nowhere near its competitors) in video, slightly faster frame to frame performance and very slightly improved auto focusing. The body is large and ungainly in most people's hands and the consensus is that the majority of Nikon's lenses will not match the resolution performance of the sensor --- not by a long shot. The lens mount mostly precludes using lenses from other makers with adapters and whomever buys the camera is buying a last century construct that uses flapping mechanical mirrors, mechanical lens linkages and a "dumb" (OVF) viewfinder. Really, the only thing that sells the camera is the sheer resolution of the sensor and the implied "leap" in quality that the sensor might deliver if all the stars line up, you use the best lenses you can't afford, and your technique goes from mildly compulsive to absolutely anal. 

You get all the usual Nikon "features." The nagging dread that all of your lenses are either front or back focusing (or both) at many focal lengths and distances. The inability to use the finder when shooting video in bright sun, or in any light. The potential for at least one manufacturer's recall; maybe two (or more as in the case of the D750). In exchange for getting a full frame (35mm) sensor with resolution that matches medium format digital cameras from seven years ago you also get the privilege of walking around with huge and heavy lenses. 

One might argue that this is the price one pays for imaging perfection but there is always going to be that nagging doubt in the back of one's mind that the compromise of much smaller sized pixels will logically put the sensor at a decided disadvantage when compared to the larger pixels of the bigger medium format camera sensors. Oh well, at least the D850 doesn't seem prone to overheating...

So that must mean the Sony A7Riii wins the race, right? Well, if photography were actually a race, or a head-on competition, you might make an argument for the Sony camera but it's not such a big deal either. When you splash out the extra cash for the newest Sony full framer you are basically getting the same sensor (and performance) as the previous model along with a second card slot and some feature gingerbread, like the (poorly conceived) multi-shot ability. A second or two between shots? Have they never met humans? Humans don't wait. Call me when multi-shot from Sony works handheld, for moving objects or, when it's at least as good as the multi-shot feature implemented years ago by Olympus. 

I'd conjectured that Sony improved the video but a quick glance at the specs still turns up no full 4K setting, no 4K 10 bit 4:2:2, and no All-I codecs. Not even an increase in information throughput. Just the same old, same old video that you'll get from the previous cameras. In fact, the video in the one inch sensor RX10iv might just be a higher quality file. Pretty wild, huh?

For around the same basic price of the Nikon D850 you get a camera with a bit less resolution, much less battery life, an "interesting" approach to physical handling and a smaller system of available lenses from Sony (not that most people should care). Why bother? Well, you do get to operate your camera as though it was designed and made in the 21st century. It does have purport to have a higher resolution, more beautiful EVF than its predecessor  (which is vital in a professional camera that will be used for high end advertising and all video...the EVF that is...) which makes for a nicer user experience. You get the second card slot you think you want (even though it is not the same performance as the #1 card slot). You get access to a vast ocean of adaptable lenses and you get bodies that are much less ----- fat. I don't want to "body shame" Nikon but the days of wanting to carry around extra weight and buy larger cases with wheels on them are pretty much over. Electronics should be able to reduce the complexity and number of parts in a camera and Sony cameras go a long way toward validating that idea. 

( full disclosure: I owed the predecessors to both of the cameras being discussed here. I no longer own them).

The Verdict? Both of these cameras were designed for  last decade work targets and the general use for cameras has morphed beyond the need for most of what those cameras offer. The majority of users in the world are no longer members of camera clubs; meeting up to show each other all the glorious detail in their 16x20 prints of kittens and wine bottles and coffee cups. We no longer haul around big tripods (which you'll need in order to see any advantage between the two cameras discussed above and the next models down in each company's line up). A person walking around town with a D850 and a 70-200mm f2.8 draped over one shoulder with a Black Vapid camera strap seems so much like a photographic anachronism now. 

We find ourselves in a situation where progress has made most cameras, of all different formats, equally good, and certainly sufficient, for 99% of the uses for which people undertake. People are using one inch superzoom cameras to do work that used to be the territory of film Hasselblads and then full frame digital cameras. The targets for the images overall are different than they were ten years ago. The culture has changed. Technology changed. Venues for sharing all changed. The obsession for horsepower has dissipated. The big, traditional, full frame camera is now more or less the replacement for the gold watch at retirement. A talisman craved only by those who lived through the (previous) golden age of photography. 

Both the cameras are largely irrelevant. My recommendation would be to keep what you have till you find the point where it fails you and where that failure actually bothers you. So few people (including the vast majority of professionals) need any camera with more than 24 megapixels for modern work. 

Most people would be more productive with a small, portable, powerful camera, like a Sony RX100V, than any big, interchangeable lens beast. And they'd most likely use it a lot more often just because it's easier to carry and offers 95% of the performance. If you want to enjoy photography instead of using camera gear as a status measure you might take a Fuji, Olympus or smaller Sony... or even small, plastic Nikon consumer DSLR out for a spin. The sheer quality of the files might surprise you. The smaller footprint will surely please you...

I guess all the "journalism" surrounding these camera introductions is akin to car magazines reviewing the latest Porsches, Corvettes and Ferraris, interspersed between logical and straightforward reviews of Hondas and Toyota family sedans. Fat guys with slow reflexes driving cars fast that no rational human would consider for everyday use....same.

"Ah yes. I see what you've done here. I needed to get my 100x loupe to see it but...I think you are right, the left edge of the Nikon D850 green pixels are slightly off square....pity." 

This man believes that camera choice important. Minute by minute choice.
Not chimping -- winding to the next frame.... 

Make sure you buy cameras that, when draped over your shoulders, don't ruin the line of your suit.

Of course we still measure performance and final quality by the 1970's Gold Standard. 
(Still in use in 2017). 

Millions and millions of ancient images reveal the lie that no good work was ever done before the advent of BSI sensors and (alleged) 14 bit raw files.

"Real Pros have to use.....XXX" What a bunch of self serving crap. If you were really hellbent on delivering the "very best" to your clients you would have been using a camera like the one just above seven or eight years ago. Or one of the new 100MP models available right now. 
Go ahead, trade up. I dare you.

Let's see. I'm going to post some stuff to Instagram. And some stuff to Facebook. Oh, and to that contest on DPReivew, and it's all going to be about my rock climbing hobby. I wonder which camera might be the best choice? Can you help me?

"It is fundamentally impossible to take actual photographs with small sensor cameras...."

Three above. The logical evolution of reportage video.

Sure wish I'd used a full frame camera....

I can hardly wait for the next camera announcements. 
I wish I could be there to see some of the reviewers wet themselves....

But which camera would I use to document it?


I was so excited by the Sony A7Riii announcement, and the afterglow of the Nikon D850 announcements, that I pre-ordered something.

It's the Olympus 45 f1.2 Pro lens. I'm pretty sure it's going to be a great lens and I'm equally sure I won't be able to use it on either of the cameras in the headline.

I'm so impressed by the Olympus Pro lenses I've been buying that I'm started to consider the cameras just an accessory.

I am preparing myself to be wowed!!!

Also, an announcement. Tomorrow is my birthday. I have a job booked from 7am till 4pm, and must attend a wedding out at a ranch that starts at 5:30pm (No, I am not the photographer...). I may not have time to squeeze in a swim tomorrow, much less a blog post. I'll look around and see if our impresario, Charlie Martini, has anything in the hopper he can offer to fill the space.  tempus fugit

A gallery of ONE INCH SENSOR photographs. Just for fun. Click on them. They are happy to be large.