Why and How not to put things off... Take the first step. And the next, and the next, and don't stop till you've completed what you set out to do. It's that simple.

Artist out out showing the portfolio.

There are people who put important things off until the last moment and then pat themselves on the back for living in misery for days at a time, pulling their nuts out of the fire just adequately enough to prevent total failure. In my mind that's what people are doing when they write and re-write many drafts instead of just sitting down and writing a book. Or a script. Or a poem. Or a blog post. Re-writing endless drafts is a way to put off being finished with a project. A method for avoiding the fear of starting the next project. A project that's never complete is a project that never has to suffer failure. Why? Because chances are no one will see it.

In photography, commercial and otherwise, there is a concept called previsualization. It means that you have a visual idea of exactly how you would like an image you are attempting to create to turn out. The form, texture, colors, style, etc. When you start with the overarching idea firmly in mind you have a template to guide you through the process. You work to complete it and then, when the image is much like what you previsualized you are done and ready to move on. One has to trust their initial vision, not scout for it like a squirrel looking for nuts. 

Overthinking anything is a method of resisting getting real stuff done. Stuff like making successful career moves, starting projects, completing projects, getting paid for projects. It's the same kind of resistive thought process that keeps people "preparing" to start an exercise program but never getting around to the point of it all. Which is so simple. To exercise you get up every morning, tie your shoes and go for a run. Every morning. Every day. Every day of the week. Alternatively, you can get up and get to the pool every morning. And swim harder and further every morning. Every day of every week. If you are in piss poor shape you start by walking around the block and build from there. Every day.

Or, conversely, you can research running shoes, research the best ways to run/swim, map out prospective pathways on which to run, etc. and never get out the door to put any of it into action. It's the putting of things/plans into action that actually creates satisfaction and measurable success/results. No other way to do it. Only the work creates the results.

Want to have healthy teeth and gums? Brush at least twice every day and floss every day. No better way. And really, would you want to try the novel concept of doing all your toothbrushing just once a month for an hour or so? Do you think that's a good oral health solution? Probably not. Same with making art.

When we are young men we tend to drive fast. To take chances. To feel bulletproof. To stay up late and put things off. We delude ourselves into thinking that our innate brilliance (and luck, and privilege) will come to the fore to save us. As we get older we tend to grow more cautious. We tend to think more before leaping off the cliff or bingeing on Netflix when we have a project that needs completed. We know that putting things off compresses our safety zone dangerously. 

At my age I see two kinds of people. Those who've planned well for retirement and those who put off doing the work of preparing for retirement. The successful ones started saving decades ago and almost to a person it was the discipline of routine savings, month by month and year by year that translated into wealth (along with the power of compound interest). Enough wealth to buffer one from the shittier parts of getting old without resources. 

The team that puts everything off to the last moment, including saving, seems to find out, with growing alarm, that at a certain point in time it's nearly impossible to quickly, easily and immediately accrue anywhere near the same kind of wealth. And suddenly the future looks much bleaker.

And interestingly the ones who've planned for their futures also tend to be the ones who keep themselves in good physical shape. Pretty much using the same basic tool. Discipline.

It's the same with issues of health. The people I know who show up to the pool or the running trails every day and put in their miles, rain or shine, hot or cold, are the ones who don't have crippling sleep issues, problems maintaining optimal body weight, and have not developed the usual diseases of excess and overindulgence. Are not losing mobility. They are banking good health every day. They may not live longer than everyone else but they will live longer as healthy and engaged people than the general population. 

Depending on a diet or some regimen of supplements is no substitution. It is easier. But it's not nearly as effective. A good diet and exercise.... now that's the gold standard for longevity. 

I know a number of artists. I taught in a Fine Arts College at a big University. I worked in advertising. You meet these these kinds of people. I count as friends painters, sculptors, writers, actors, photographers and whatever other permutation of artist you might think of. The successful ones? The ones without pat excuses for their failure to thrive? The ones with art in galleries and museums? The ones who can afford to live at least as well as most other professionals? They have one thing the less successful artists lack. It's discipline. 

They tend to get up every morning. Mix paint. Chisel stone. Type for hours. Sling cameras. Print for publication or sale, memorize scripts, and, basically, show up. They do the work --- not sporadically or because a show is coming up. They do the work day in and day out because that's the only way they know how to be successful. 

When Stephen Pressfield finished writing it and sold his first book he rushed to tell his mentor. His mentor congratulated him and then told him to get up the next morning, pull out a ream of fresh paper and start writing the next one. 

No wild trips to Bali to celebrate, no week off in the Bahamas. You got the good news today and you start the next project tomorrow. No other way. A foundation of discipline.

And it's hard at first to develop the habits of always following through. Always finishing what you start. Always putting off immediate gratification for the bigger rewards that hard, diligent work engenders. 

When I talk to younger photographers about how to be successful we rarely ever bring up gear, lighting techniques, or style. We talk about the discipline to get up every day ready to market to people who can commission the work and have the money to support them. The discipline of concepting a project and following it through tenaciously. Delivering on time. Delivering early in case changes need to be made. But knuckling down and doing the work. 

Self Discipline never goes out of style. 

Please forgive my spelling errors. It's my first and only draft.

Future engineers. Working to completion.

Adobe Lightroom is making it easier than ever to do conversions from color to black and white that I like. Really like.

 I showed this image a few weeks ago in its original color rendering. It was a quick snap I made with a Leica M240 rangefinder camera coupled with a Carl Zeiss 35mm f2.0 Biogon lens in M mount. I liked the enormous graphic on the wall of a favorite coffee shop in Montreal and so, after a donut and a cup of coffee, I stopped to make a photo on my way out. 

While the color image is good in its own right, and there are things about it that interest me, I thought it would be interesting to see how I would like it in black and white. In the past I've used the HSL tools in PhotoShop or Lightroom to make a conversion but recently Adobe added dozens (maybe over 100) presets to their develop menu. Many of them are for black and white. 

I selected one after scrolling through and seeing what each one could do. I liked the tonal rendering but, like most black and white images which are conversions from color, I thought it could use a bit more contrast. Especially in the mid-ranges. So I took advantage of the clarity slider to tweak the image to my taste (which may not be the same as your taste...). 

The image holds up well. I tweaked it a bit further for publication on the blog. I noticed that sometimes B&W files can look a bit dark on the blog. I pulled up the brightness just a tad using curves.

That's the long and short of it. But I must say that I really like the way the ZM 35mm f2.0 renders tones and sharpness. It's a really nice lens for M mount cameras. Lots of fine detail without the over-crispy-ness that some modern lenses deliver. 

I look forward to playing with more and more files and converting them. I'll probably stop shooting black and white in the camera and settle on raw files. More control and the addition of A.I. Noise Reduction in LR which is only available right now for Raw files. 

Monochrome madness continues.

This one was done with the Voigtlander 50 APO. 

I like the rendering here as well....

A lighter, more congenial post. About mannequins. No pools. No drama.

Ken and Tammy Faye.

I've been enjoying using the Sigma fp camera a lot lately and I've been enjoying surreptitiously snapping images of strangers out on the street less and less lately. How to proceed? Well, I could just  photograph all my favorite mannequins around Austin. I could work on melding the reflected scenes in the backgrounds with my "stars" and try for layered photographs. I could play with separately messing with foreground and background colors or, I could just have fun photographing everything. So I have been. 

The images here were mostly shot with one of two lenses; the Sigma 24mm f3.5 lens and its companion, the 90mm f2.8 Sigma lens. I tried one yesterday afternoon and it's opposite this morning. I started shooting before midday today because we're back into a "temporary" heat wave. The temperatures topped out at 97° Fahrenheit today. That's 36.1 degrees Celsius for the rest of the world... 

It's fun to see how much different these two focal lengths are. Especially noticeable in the differences in background detail and out of focus renderings of the backgrounds. In the second regard the 90mm wins, hands down. 

I've been shooting with the Sigma fp for several reasons. I'm finding that not holding the camera up to my eye when composing means people pay a heck of a lot less attention to what I'm doing. Secondly, the Sigma fp is as small and uncomplicated looking as the simplest point-and-shoot camera so most people assume (happily) that I'm just a rank amateur out trying my luck with a new camera. The unadorned lenses and the small size of the lenses helps complete the subterfuge. And finally, the sensor and imaging pipeline are every bit as good as in my Leicas or any other full frame camera I might use. 

As far as handling goes I find I can get used to just about anything. The small size and light weight are nice on a hot and sweaty day. And unlike my brand new Fuji GFX 50Sii camera the Sigma never gives me an overheating signal/indication on even the nastiest days. Win, win, win. 

When it got too hot I said "goodbye" to the host of downtown and South Congress Ave. Mannequin talent and motored home for a late lunch with B. A nice, happy, mellow day so far. Even the post processing was fun. 

Interesting trend in mannequin tech. We seem to be moving to a featureless face and a shiny white body as the archetype. I wonder how this will shift human fashion.... Might be painful.

At the toy store on 2nd Street. In preparation for Halloween.

It's not "just" the mannequins. It's also the poses and the reflections in the windows. 

 I watched this mannequin in the window for about twenty minutes. Then he stopped messing 

with his camera and actually moved. Had me fooled. 

Expressive model on S. Congress Ave. At a store down the street from the Hermes shop. 

I should go into the Hermes shop some time. I guess they sell little statues of the 

god, Hermes. But I'm not really sure...

In this selection of images I am actively playing around with the differences between

subjects and backgrounds. In focus and out of focus. Warm or neutral and cool.

this pleased me because the window was partially veiled by flare on the glass. 

It made the frame seem more ethereal to me. More mysterious. 

I learned more and more about using a camera via the rear screen yesterday and today.

Worth knowing. I might even become proficient. I can hope.

(Hope is not a plan...) 

Taking stock. The problem with every "perfect" cup of coffee is that eventually the cup is empty. The problem with photography is that it's too goal driven. The pursuit of perfection robs us of joy in the moment.

 

There is a difference between the desire to find a nice, enjoyable cup of coffee and the obsession with finding the "perfect" cup. Philosophers, if motivated correctly, could do a great job explaining, in reams and reams of writing, exactly why there can never be a perfect cup of coffee. Close but never perfect. Whereas the every day enjoyer of coffee might take the other side of the argument and posit that every good cup of coffee is perfect --- for them. 

I woke up early this morning. I'm on my second cup of coffee. I've been making coffee in the morning for myself just for the last ten years. Before that coffee was a detour to a favorite bakery or coffee house on my way to whatever job, interview, appointment I might have had in the mornings. I find the way I make drip coffee, and the coffee beans I use at home, to be "perfect" for me. So much better than the ick I find at Starbucks these days. (They truly have become the Burger King of fast coffee. Not even the McDonalds. Only it's too slow now that five thousand Gen-Z-ers have ordered on line and kludged up the process for those of us who might just stop by --- on a whim. Imagine being the only physical customer in a coffee shop but all five people behind the counters ignore you because they are terrified to get behind on the endless app-driven orders for weird, sugary, speciality coffees that keep cascading in.....). 

I find many photographers who are on the constant and exhausting search for the "perfect" photograph. They are constantly making plans on how to get there. These are the landscape people who have apps to tell them where and when the sun will rise and set. Meteorological prediction apps to tell them the relative humidity, chance of cloud cover on site and which jacket with many pockets to wear for the prevailing conditions. The same folks who spend a....lot....of time ordering mythically great lenses and endlessly comparing them to other mythically great lenses in order to minimize any deviation from perfection in the pursuit of the perfect craft. Like writers who spend hours, days even, re-writing a 500 word essay --- convinced that there are one or two rare, wonderful but elusive words that will, like AED paddles, spark effervescent life and joy into a droll essay. It must be painful to endlessly re-write or make draft after draft. I wouldn't know because I refuse to do that. Same with photography. 

In a "perfect" photographic world we'd all just relax a bit and maybe aim for "interesting", "creative", "entertaining" or "visually addictive" as descriptions of our work instead of banging our collective heads against the wall in the bitter pursuit of perfection --- beyond just excellence. 

I've written many times that for me photography can be as "low impact" as an adjunct for a good walk in the fresh air. Less a mission and more of a jaunt. An episode of heightened visual interest. With my desire more aligned to the act of seeing stuff with fresh eyes (curiosity?) than to the pursuit of technically perfect capture. And I think this is very, very important for one's mental health.

At one point in my career I was a slave to the idea that I could perfect an image. That I could construct a template of both intention and follow through that would allow me to get images that were as close to perfect as humanly possible. But real life came by and swatted me on the back of the head. 

Real life taught me hard lessons.

My father had a cardiac procedure. He has several stents installed in his arteries to prevent a cardiac event. He came to Austin for the procedure. Experts everywhere. He stayed at my house for the recovery phase. On a Saturday morning he was resting peacefully with family and I went to swim practice. Halfway through I had a sudden and strong premonition that something was going wrong. I got out, toweled off and rushed home. My dad had defied his doctors orders and strolled up our steep drive to see my older brother off after his brief visit. Dad looked off. I took his pulse. Racing. I felt his hands. Cold to the touch. I rushed him to the emergency room of the hospital where he'd had the procedure. My wife, at home, frantically calling the cardiologist who had treated him. 

While in a wheel chair in the emergency room, with me standing next to him, my dad suddenly went into cardiac arrest. I caught him as he slumped forward in the chair. Yelling to the ER staff that my dad had gone into arrest. He was rushed into a room along with a crash cart, two doctors and an army of nurses and orderlies. And a big syringe of something potent. He was resuscitated. He survived. After five days in the ICU he was de-escalated into a regular room for a few more days of care and observation. And then back to my house. He lived well after his recovery for nearly 15 more years.

But watching one's father experience cardiac arrest and near death is scarring. The sense of helplessness. The weird awareness of the validity of mid-swim premonitions. The flood of thoughts about one's own mortality. The realization of how fragile our lives are. And it left me with a new issue. The years delayed but, once started, onset of acute and debilitating anxiety. So intense that at times I was paralyzed. Trying to work for money and also trying to work out the right amount of anti-anxiety drugs that would keep me functional and still coherent was all consuming. And, of course, it was impossible to step away from family and work at the time. 

I called a friend I'd known since high school. He's a well known psychiatrist in Austin. It was a Sunday evening and I was at my wit's end. He knew me too well socially and personally to treat me but recommended a colleague. And he interceded to get me an appointment for the next day. First thing in the morning. That was the start of a year and a half long battle with my own brain. My own anxiety. 

Four things kept me on the path toward eventually tamping down and learning to deal with anxiety. Of course there was Ben and B. And swimming with a compassionate coach (but even there I was convinced that one day I'd swim too hard and have my own cardiac event). And my work. And my friends. Mostly in that order. The work gave me a reason to push through and the need to find a solution. 

I started therapy with a psychologist almost immediately. Around the same time I started writing this blog site. At first it took my mind off the anxiety. I went to therapy every week. I worried about the cost. But I worried about the idea of losing control over my life much more. After half a year of weekly sessions I emerged with a set of tools that work for me. That was over a decade ago. About five years ago I realized that my anxiety had all but vanished entirely. No flare ups. No back sliding. The tools of abatement had become second nature.

And with this realization came the paired realization that a lot of what was driving my nervous, all consuming worry was the need to be "perfect." To always nail every job. To make every project the "best." To "bring home the bacon."  Even when the jobs didn't need that level of intensity. At some point I embraced the idea of doing things in a manner that was "good enough." I read Stephen Pressfield's books. Especially "The War of Art." I got over all manner of procrastination and also....fear. I wrote five books on photography.  I published a novel that had languished in a drawer for nearly a decade. I fired clients I didn't like. I swam as hard as I wanted to. And I gave myself permission to enjoy the work. To enjoy the processes of life instead of just the goals at the end. 

I'm writing this because I've been reading Michael Johnston's recent blogs about his inability to re-engage with his work. None of us (professionals excluded) are really able to give advice to anyone else about conquering blocks, fears, etc. because every situation is personal and complex. But reading of his struggles reminded me of my own path and how hard it was to navigate. How many times one just wants to give up. My heart goes out to him right now. In this moment. 

One thing in his favor is his large, on line group of supporters and fans. Each one a brick in a solid wall of positivity. I kept my struggles private. His are public. No right or wrong. My concern was the ongoing business and clients who were indoctrinated into the self-defeating idea of "giving 110%".  His concerns may be more existential. It's a fraught time, the mid-60s. Send the guy some good energy if you are so inclined. He's such a solid part of the current photographic framework. 

When it comes to my journey I'm happy just trying to savor all the good stuff life seems to have delivered to me on a silver platter. When I walked with B. this morning we talked about life and how the pursuit of perfection robs us of the joy in the moment. She remembered the first half of the sentence and I remembered the second half. Team work.

I bristle a bit when I post images that are meant to be a fluid time line of my life in the moment and someone feels compelled to tell me how I can make it a little better if I would just change this. And this. And that. Spend a few hours post processing. Eliminate that trash in the corner. And it seems to me that they never realize the photo is already finished for me. It's already done. I don't revise because while I'm revising and fixing stuff the world outside is moving on. There's more to see. More to experience. More colors to take note of and more people to meet. 

Someone will read this and say, "Kirk is just suggesting that we give up!" But nothing could be further from the truth. What I'm really suggesting is that the process is where the enjoyment lies. The trophy is just a reminder of the moment. At some point we all transition from Object Fine Art to Performance Art. Be artful in your performance with the idea that you are the primary audience for all of your work, and if you're not happy then no one is. At least from your perspective. 

When I am dead I will not give a crap about whether or not the horizons in my photographs are level. Or if the shadows are blocked up. Why should I care now?

Stephen Pressfield was/is right. We, each of us, self sabotages our highest aspirations. Usually out of fear. Our resistance is based in the idea that whatever we create won't be good enough. Won't be well received. Will reveal us as charlatans. Or we resist because we "know" that when we finish with whatever is at hand we'll be right back where we started, staring fearfully into the unknown.

I suggest that it's a fear of never being able to achieve "perfection" that sabotages most of our efforts. Way too much preparation in order to prevent failure which results in never actually starting. Really starting. Not scribbling an outline for a novel or creating a schedule on a spreadsheet for our landscape photography book project but actually starting. Sitting down and writing everyday. (famous quote from sports writer, Red Smith: “There’s nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and open a vein.”). 

It's the getting started that's the hardest part. Everything else is like showing up for swim practice and hoping to get a little bit better every day. 

When I think about my own photography. The personal work. The shooting I do without needing to be paid I think of this quote from Julian Tepper: “I still feel strongly, that the one thing a writer has above all else, the reward which is bigger than anything that may come to him … is the weapon against boredom. The question of how to spend his time, what to do today, tomorrow, and during all the other pockets of time in between when some doing is required: this is not applicable to the writer. For he can always lose himself in the act of writing and make time vanish. After which, he actually has something to show for his efforts. Not bad.”

It's the process. Enjoy the process and there is always a reward at the end. 

I lost my fear that people wouldn't approve of: my blog posts, my work photos, my personal art photos, my mediocre flip turn, my bad haircut, my voice, or the way I take my coffee. When the fear vanished so did the anxiety, procrastination, nervousness and even my elevated blood pressure. Now my biggest goal is....to enjoy the actual process.

Just a few thoughts. Go read some stuff at MJ's blog. It's much better written than mine. 

 

Beef.

 

I spent a couple of days back in September shooting behind the scenes images 

for a TV show/cooking contest between two popular chefs. The client was

the Texas Beef Council. It was so much fun. The work was through one of the ad agencies

I'm happy to continue working with. They still rock.

These images were done with a Leica SL2 and the amazing

24-90mm Leica Vario-Elmarit lens. It's pretty darn 

wonderful. Especially on controlled and lit sets like this one. 

Get your white balance nailed down and everything else just falls into 

place. Really, it's the color that needs attention, not noise or dynamic range or much

of anything else. 

I cooked a prime sirloin strip at home last night. It was my night to cook

dinner. I used my small, ten inch, cast iron pan. I rubbed the hot 

pan with beef fat, seared both sides of the steaks for 60 seconds each

and then popped the pan into a 405 degree oven. 

They turned out really well. I learned something while on the job.

Diet, like everything else, is best when everything is in moderation. I cook a steak maybe once a quarter. I eat ice cream maybe once a month. I eat a pastry with my coffee on Saturdays, after swim practice. Simple pleasures. Rewards for all the other things in life that require or request discipline. 

My favorite millionaires are the ones who drive old Honda Accords and eat some of their breakfasts at McDonalds. Like Warren Buffet. Their priorities aren't about impressing anyone else. They just do what feels right to them. Of course, Warren does have a private jet but he's come up with a good rationale for owning it. And that counts too. 

We're being ultra domestic around here. On the home front. Just met with the estimator for our favorite painting company. The interior is going to get a week long repair and repaint refresh. B. included my studio/office in the budget so my space will get its first re-paint in 26 years. The estimator looked at all the wear and tear to the studio walls, and the grime that comes from loading in and out nearly every day for a couple of decades and announced that these walls would need to be cleaned first and would definitely need two coats of paint.... It's good excuse for me to get rid of a lot of clutter so they have space to work. Trying to figure out how to get rid of more physical stuff. Like filing cabinets and shelving. 

New hardwood floors in the living room are next. And then a re-do for one of the bathrooms. Who knew that life as a homeowner would be so immersive? And expensive? I guess, at some level we all do. 

This is what happens when your focus shifts. 

Added: Swam the last three days in a row. The waterproof bandaids are good for about 75% of the workout but eventually start to fail. I just rip them off and stuff them under the waist of my swim suit so people don't have dodge used bandages in the lane. I still remember how to swim. And I am still loving the whole process of competitive swimming. Maybe convince the coach to celebrate my upcoming birthday with 68 X 100 yards on a nice interval. Or cake. That would be good too!

If anyone feels compelled to send me lavish gifts for my birthday I've had my eye on either of two cameras. The big gesture would be to send me a nice Leica Q3. I'd appreciate it. Really. If you've had a rough year in the markets and can't quite splash out that big you might also consider a nice, clean, Sigma fpL.... *

*(don't really send me anything. It would engender way too much guilt on my part.....) 

What is it about the Sigma fp that makes it desirable to a certain segment of photographers?

Small, visually boring from the front. Indestructible. Capable and 

anonymous. No big logo on the front of this camera. Nothing you'd 

need to cover up with black tape. This one is already "stealthy."

The Sigma fp is such an interesting product. It's small, hard to hold without an add-on grip. Bereft of the usual popular features (it's contrast AF only, no eye level finder, no weird picture modes, pixie battery life, L mount only, and a scandalously thin menu system). On the other hand it can shoot RAW 4K video to an attached SSD. And on the other, other hand it has color like no other camera I've used. 

I think the camera is sexy, desirable and niche-y precisely because it's a specialized tool that's more about taking great images than it is about making everything super easy for photographers. Yeah. You have to work with the fp to get what you want. But when you do get what you want it sings beautifully. 

How else can you explain that two photographers who represent the opposite ends of the aesthetic and technical spectra; Kirk Tuck and Michael Johnston, can agree so wholeheartedly about a camera that each uses to create images so different from the other?

I bought mine when they were first announced. Well, at least when they were first available. That was back in early 2020. I've probably shot 30,000 frames with the camera and rarely use it at all for video. A minor breakthrough for me was when I got progressive lens eyeglasses and decided that it would be okay to forego an eye level finder and use the rear LCD for all my composition, etc. I gave up thinking about getting the EVF and, when I use the camera for work stuff I'm just fine using the gigantic loupe that Sigma made for the camera. 

When I use the camera for fun (most of the time) I like to strip it down to the barest essentials and work that way. It makes sense because in its most distilled form, using no loupe or EVF, and no grip, just the original 45mm lens (without even a lens hood) it looks so much like a point and shoot camera to most people. And it's most people that I want to photograph when I'm out and around. Not camera lovers. Also, I am finding out, belatedly, that most people absolutely ignore you if you are going full amateur and are composing on a rear camera screen with the camera held out in front of you in your outstretched arms. 

But since the fp is easily as good as a Leica, at least as far as image quality is concerned, that anonymity is like a super power hand delivered by this camera in spades. I used mine all weekend out on the streets here in Austin and the people I pointed the Sigma fp at rarely acknowledged that it was even there. Much less that I was taking their photograph. No "stranger danger" with a bland looking, small camera.

But there is another side to the fp. It's that the sensor is magnificent and the color science is just right --- for me. Sometimes I use the fp in a totally different configuration. On a tripod. With Leica glass on the front. With the big loupe on the back. And I use it this way to make product photographs and lit, studio portraits --- even environments portraits. And, as Michael Johnston has written at least several times, when used this way it's his modern version of a view camera. Control, control, control. 

I used to bitch about the battery life but I gave up caring. There are so many high quality battery options for this camera. And they are, for the most part, inexpensive. They are also the same type of battery that powers the Leica CL camera and generations of Panasonic cameras. You can pick up serviceable batteries for $20 and vetted, Sigma batteries for around $45. Problem solved. Just bring a Baggie(tm) full of the batteries when you go out to shoot. 

And you can just imagine how incredibly cute and seductive this metal,  rectangular box looks when you use it with Leica M lenses on it. Eye-watering goodness.   

 

sometimes. Most of the time, it's just a walking around camera. 

A snapshot camera with the potential to gobsmack pixel peepers. 

the Sigma fp dressed up for work. Ready to go into the office or to 

work from home. Configured here with the Sigma 24-70mm f2.8 Art lens, 

a Sigma handgrip and the infamous loupe.

You know that curved building on the edge of the lake in downtown 

Austin that I seem to enjoy photographing all the time?

Well, here's what it looked like in its infancy about four or five

years ago. Acres of rebar and a deep, deep pit. 

Yes. The fp can do "monochrome" and it doesn't even 

need to be converted. But if you're feeling rich then buy one, send it 

off and you can have a custom version. 

Used an fp late last year on a photo shoot for a national 

accounting firm. Environmental portraits in the office space. 

It worked really well for that. Really well. 

Skin tones are delightful right out of the camera. 

I've used a lot of top-of-the-line cameras but none of them have exuded the sheer "personality" of the fp. You either love it or you use it for a week, sell it and then curse me for months for having written so much nice stuff about it. 

It's not a universal camera. It's not an all purpose tool for someone who is constantly doing different kinds of assignments. Rather, it's a specialized camera for someone who already has a different system for fast moving work; a person with fast focusing needs. And you definitely need a second system if  your work entails using flash --- pretty much at all. But, if you've got other working cameras and you find them boring or too easy to use and you need some friction in your process this is for you. Just be aware that having some friction in the process doesn't mean the camera doesn't have the potential to make great images, it's just that getting them into the camera is pretty much all on you. It's not a camera with training wheels that's there to save you. It's willing if you are capable. 

I don't always nail everything I shoot with the fp but that's what makes it fun for me. It's the challenge. But a challenge with outsized rewards. 

In many ways it's the anti-Sony. And that's okay with me.

These are just my opinions. I don't make money having opinions about cameras. There are no links here. We don't sell cameras either. Nope, Sigma didn't give me a camera (but I wish they'd give me a second fp, just for back-up) or a car or a trip to Spain. I'm writing about the camera because I really like using it and think it's largely been marginalized by doltish "influenzers" with contagious and flawed points of view. Mostly driven by a desparate need for cash. So, take it all with a grain of salt but be aware that I'm not trying to separate you from a tiny fraction of your net worth just to rationalize my own purchase of a wildly eccentric but wonderful camera. Your mileage will most likely vary. But that's okay too. More for me.

Finally! Back in the pool for a swim workout. Yummy.

Coffee in Leipzig. Red cup specials...

You know how, when you were young and oblivious, cuts, scrapes and various non-fatal wounds seemed to heal almost overnight? What a marvelous thing that was. I cut open the top of my right hand when I hit a lane line all wrong at swim practice last Thursday and I've been nursing the battered flesh ever since. Those big scrape wounds tend to be "weepy" and I tried to keep mine covered with right-sized bandaids. But there is no denying that the more years added to your ledger the longer the healing process for most (all?) things takes. 

I slept in this morning, drank coffee, and walked three miles and change through the hills with B. It was a glorious 46 degrees when we stirred and only 48 by the time we left the house.  A lovely start to the day.

I made it to the pool for the noon practice instead of my usual 8 a.m. aquatic adventures. 

In what I later found was an excess of caution I used a big, waterproof bandage to cover the back of my hand. Two physicians I swim with assured me that the high chlorine levels in the pool would kill anything I thought might have killed me instead. 

Swimming at noon on a near perfect day is like candy that won't rot your teeth. Or wine that will never give you a hangover. Or chocolate cake with no calories. The air temp was about 60° and the water temp was a near perfect 80°. The sky was clear and Texas Blue. Practice was not nearly as well attended as a usual Tuesday morning practice so everyone got their own, individual lane. The hour shot past.

I've been cleaning up the studio today and stopping from time to time to play with cameras. The current favorite camera, the one sitting in the car right now --- patiently waiting to see where my coffee break of the afternoon will take us --- is the oldest and most beat up of my Leica SL collection. Just for grins (and because I like the tonality...) it's wearing an old, 50mm f1.4 Canon FD SSC lens. The camera seems to play well with the lens and  the lens just seems happy to be out of the drawer and out in the world.

I'm glad I made it to the pool today. I was beginning to worry that I was putting off returning because of the accident. But I was equally worried that I had gained a pound, what with the travel and then the down time from the pool. I've weighed a bit less than 160 lbs. since 2001 and I'd hate to cause the trend line to deviate. If it did and I gained I might have to find my own fad diet to torture my readers with....

I was supposed to photograph a new hire at my favorite law firm today but the poor guy broke his foot yesterday and the last I heard from the office manager was that the attorney was heading to an orthopedic practice to get some scans. No shoot for today! Well, at least no shoot for a client...

I'll be back in the pool tomorrow morning. Can't get too much of a good thing. Gotta keep that resting pulse rate nice and low...

Some pix from Berlin:

A fellow beta tester for the Samsung Galaxy NX camera and lenses.

 

My life is changing but not my interest in taking photographs. I got a great response to yesterday's images but they were only a small collection of what I shot.

 

Catching a ride to the Austin City Limits Music Festival.

The irony of "motoring" across the Pedestrian Bridge.

Life is always interesting. When you are working in the middle of your career you feel like you are too busy to even breathe. A bit later you feel like you are just calling it in. I guess I could go on photographing for clients and running a business until I drop over dead but this year has been a pivotal one for making decisions. Do you stay or do you go? Or...is there some middle ground?

At the end of next week I'll be turning 68. I've had a long and successful run as a photographer. I count myself lucky at 67 to be able do the same kinds of physical work I've always done as a photographer. Packing up gear. Hauling it upstairs and downstairs and across muddy fields in the heat. Getting home on red eye flights at one in the morning and keeping track of all the gear until the Uber drops me off at the office and I unload. My eyes still work and my hearing is fine. My balance is good and my swimming (when not injuring myself) is challenging but still achievable. Still fun. But as much as I've kept my energy, and my passion for making images for myself, I seem to be losing my motivation to make clients happy. To keep generating images for advertising campaigns. Even for nice, fun clients. It just feels .... futile and boring.

I've explored options. Many of my friends tell me I am lucky to own my own business so I can just ratchet back and take only the jobs that are really fun. They call it "lucky" that I can also keep my toes in the water, so to speak. To be able to just step in and say, "wow! that sounds fun! Let's do it." And that's an option, I guess. Picking and choosing. But it never really works out as neatly as that sounds.

People who are only motivated by money might look at the business and see an opportunity for me to go on and on until I'm physically spent, in order to get the money, take the tax advantages, and operate my life completely out of cash flow; putting off the time when I'll actually have to reach in and start taking money back out of retirement accounts and the like. 

More realistic friends generally look at the overview of my situation and ask, "Why in God's name are you still dealing with clients?!!!"  "Go and do your own work and have fun with it." The message is: retire already.  Even our wealth manager occasionally calls up and suggests I could spend more money. That I'm not in danger of running out too soon.

I guess my subconscious has been preparing for this for a couple of years. During the pandemic I stopped marketing to clients entirely. That decision worked well to separate the boring and commodity type jobs and clients from the real deals but the friends in advertising I've made over the last 40 years are more tightly bound than I would have imagined. They're not ready to let go. Not entirely. 

There are three or four companies that I still work with. They are kind and smart and their budgets tend to be...generous. Everyone else, from tech to healthcare to manufacturing, the ones I looked at as a necessary job in order to wrangle a profit, a "pay check", those have been culled. When they call me now my pat line is: "Well, we've stopped offering that particular service." and any other service they might need....

The sad reality is that most working photographers who've been successful have come to value the continuity that the work itself provides for us. They miss the work. I'm no different. The work creates a foundation and format in which to exist. We know where the boundaries are. We know which buttons to push. And good work fills the days with purpose. Retire and all of a sudden you have to confront an additional eight to ten hours a day without real, external structure. Retire and you need to find new purpose.

The trip to Montreal was a test run for real retirement. Could I be satisfied with a full week of self-directed photography and could I emotionally flip the switch from saver to spender? I discovered that I'm pretty good at self-propelled engagement. And I like the freedom to change plans at random, and to embrace a certain amount of chaos. The money doesn't really figure in.

Anyway, when I walked around yesterday with a "primitive" camera and a single lens (Sigma fp + 45mm) I realized that the freedom to photograph is the thing I most enjoy. Being able to leave the house in the middle of the morning and walk until it's time for dinner, just taking frames and soaking up the rich tapestry of life in the moment. That's delicious.

I spent the weekend trying to decide what to do with the business part of life and came to the conclusion that it's time to progressively step away. It's just not very meaningful to me anymore. And, as far as work in the advertising and marketing community goes it seems obvious to me that, at some point, everyone ages out. Priorities change and focus changes and we start more jealously guarding our time. And it's only fair, I think, to step aside so a younger generation can have more opportunities. They'll need em.

I'll miss the ability to rationalize buying the latest toys. Not that a lack of clients would stop me from buying expensive crap I don't need. But not having to prove something at every engagement robs the toys of some of their purpose; their fun.

I used to spend too much time surfing the web for photo gear and new techniques. New faces in industry and new ways of doing art. Now I'm spending a lot more time surfing the travel sites. Tossing money at hotel reservations and plane fares. Becoming newly appreciative of nonstop airline routes. 

Every place seems to have some sort of charm, some reason to visit. And with a camera in hand how can it not be fun? As long as we are careful to maintain the balance with swimming, dinners with friends, and time for myself everything should work out. 

It's time to claw back some time and to learn how to spend money effectively to achieve maximum fun. I think these are things I can work towards. Not much will change with my writing and blogging. That's still fun and it was never really about earning a paycheck or marketing to work clients. No workshops. No print sales. No advertising links.  It was just community and sharing and .... fun. And it's still fun. 

heading to the concert. Me? No. I'm heading in the opposite direction.

Been in Austin longer than I have. And still serving great stuff.

mannequin modeling day of the dead flowered headpieces.

the Summer version of the Stetson "Open Road" hat.

ooo. ACL Fest is such a class act...

A custom, silver cowboy hat.

the coffee shop inside the hat store makes a decent latté. Not perfect. 

But quite decent.

group tours always make me just a bit nauseous. 

The endless line for coffee at Jo's Coffee on S. Congress.

Crocs with applied decor. 

regular contrast.