Homeostasis of Joy.

From Google: Homeostasis is the process by which living organisms maintain a stable internal environment despite changes in external conditions. It's a dynamic equilibrium where the body regulates various factors like temperature, pH, and glucose levels to ensure optimal functioning. This regulation is achieved through feedback mechanisms, which detect changes and trigger responses to counteract them.

So, that's the way the term homeostasis is used in the physical world, but I have a secondary use for homeo (same) stasis (staying still) and that is about the homeostasis of joy. 

I think I am, for the most part, a happy person. In the realm of Maslow's Hierarchy of Basic Needs I am fortunate. Physically, I live well and am privileged to live in a time of great affluence and "relative" peace. Even though the world seems to argue that relative measure. 

However,  the different but equal need, based not on physiology but on psychology and happiness, is to maintain an overall homeostasis of joy as well. Not every day or week or month will be perfect and filled with things that reinforce our feelings of wellbeing and satisfaction but taking life as a "long game" I find that there is very much, in people disposed to happiness, a stasis or baseline of joy to which they seem to return to as surely as the body regulates temperature or blood pressure. 

The last couple of weeks were bumpy for me. But that's so relative. My overall health is good and I'm secure in that all my physical and fiscal needs are well met, but things pop up. The air conditioner died and needed replaced. I needed to scrounge up nearly $20K to pay the bill. The installation took longer than I wanted. My dermatologist called with news of a biopsy. A malignant and somewhat aggressive skin cancer diagnosis. I sat through a four hour procedure and dozens of pokes with pain numbing injections. I wore a bandage the size of a Maxi-Pad to coffee out later with an old friend. I've been temporarily banned from the pool by my surgeon. My face looks icky under the bandage. I'm not allowed to exercise until the end of next week. I have to take antibiotics for seven days.... etc. etc. Oh, and America is stumbling into a  dictatorship...

But surprisingly, after being glum for a few days I woke this morning feeling a renewed surge of my usual, basic joy and satisfaction with life. When I experienced this I thought about it and realized that, to a certain extent, my resilient feelings of joy come from a life time of things and people that have made me happy and continue to make me happy.

It was then that I thought about there being a thing such as the "homeostasis of Joy." That our cumulative life experiences create a buffer that protects us from going too long with negative feelings --- if everything is working as it should. Meaning: If I keep interpreting my feelings about my life in a way that benefits me that's stasis. A mindset that fills me with a sense of gratitude. A sense that I can do anything. 

I have so much to be thankful for that sometimes I take the good stuff for granted. Sure, I was in a chair having my face carved up with scalpels for half the day on Tuesday. But what I really took away from it was that a beautiful and high energy Mohs Surgeon named Megan was chatting with me as though I was an old friend --- while she worked. That she was doing something that would, in the long run, extend my life and extend my enjoyment of life. And there were all the little things I always appreciate, like walking in for an 8:15 a.m. appointment and being greeted warmly and offered coffee. That my nurse, Bree, came out to find me in the waiting area exactly at 8:15 a.m., and with a big, welcoming smile. That Bree is a magician with numbing injections which dissolved any anxiety I might have had about that part of the procedure. That my surgeon never seemed rushed or in a hurry to move on with some schedule. The kindness both showed me at every step of the way.

The Haagen-Daz rum raisin ice cream my wonderful spouse left for me in the freezer. The DVDs of my favorite sitcom she gifted me so I could chill and not get too bored. The endless stream of texts from my swimmer friends and photographer friends either wishing me well or demanding to be brought up to speed. And all questioning how soon I could be back in the pool. 

I constantly hear about how bad medicine is as practiced in the USA but when I told my team of medical experts that I was squeamish about taking off the big, pressure bandage today and cleaning and redressing the site myself they instantly invited me back to the practice at 9:00 a.m. today so they could do it for me. The surgeon was waiting for me when I arrived and removed the huge and dramatic looking bandage and spent time examining her handiwork. Asking me about my antibiotic compliance, telling me how great I looked. Her nurse, Bree, redressed the wound and put on a smaller, less imposing bandage and then spent time showing me how to do it myself going forward. But, as I was checking out, she said that any time I didn't feel up to it I should come by and they would continue redressing it.

My out of pocket expenses so far? For everything? A $40 copay. 

Since every appointment was warmly and professionally conducted, started right on time and ended with sincere fist bumps and satisfaction, I couldn't imagine in the moment getting better care anywhere. Which, of course, adds to my store of good feelings, which keeps my homeostasis of Joy clicking right along. 

On my way home I dropped by my locally owned and wonderfully managed coffee shop where I ordered a large coffee and a piece of banana bread. The owner noticed (how could he not?) the bandage and wanted to know what the deal was and, more importantly, how I was doing. The coffee and banana bread were on the house.... Amazingly, people do care. 

There was the gift bag from my long time friend, Debbie, (our former CFO) at my front door when I got back home. It had a plush, stuffed puppy that you can stick in the microwave for a minute and warm up. Or stick in the freezer and provide a chilly compress for swollen tissues. And a note that was so dear it made me tear up just a bit...

At 69 I've never felt more loved by more people than ever before in my life. That bolsters my homeostasis of Joy. And these are feelings you can bank against the rough spots in life. 

When I got home I had this phrase, "The Homeostasis of Joy" in my head. Don't know where it came from but when I sat down to write this I looked through a gallery of images to pull out some examples that exemplify for me just basic happiness. I'm blessed to have an archive just brimming with happy, alive and wonderful images. It's like having your own Louvre Museum of Personalized Happiness right there on one's screen. 

Damn. That banana bread and coffee is a wonderful combination!!! It's 79° outside and raining again. Joy! A break in the Summer heat. 

Listening to "Happiness" by Pharrell Williams. Waiting for the next great thing.

Here's some happy photos: 

 

Is the Leica SL2 still relevant in 2025? Was it ever relevant?

The Leica SL2 camera out in late 2019 at a price of around $5600 and I bought one early on. Late last year (2024) I bought a second one. Why? Well, I can blame the second purchase on my previous experiences with my first SL2, and mostly a drop in price on that camera to about $2200-2400 in the used markets. And those prices were for pristine, barely used specimens. The perfect back up camera to the first.  But why did I buy the first one? And why do I still keep it today?

The first SL2 adventure was a follow on from my purchase of an original model (digital) SL. I found that camera to be really fun to shoot and more or less indestructible. Sure, it ate batteries like Homer Simpson eating shrimp at an all you can eat restaurant but the  handling was fun, the viewfinder was state of the art and  the overall design was gorgeous. So when the SL2 came out with about twice the resolution, some design changes that made the body even more gorgeous, and a simplification and more elegant design of the user interface, I thought they (Leica) presented me with a compelling camera lust equation. 

From my perspective and my use cases the camera market overall hasn't introduced anything that's appreciably better, image quality-wise since 2019. The difference in resolution between 47 megapixels and 60 megapixels is really marginal and there's no savings when it comes to noise reduction. So even though Leica came out with the SL3 as a replacement the only reason to switch, for a stills photographer, is if one really, really needs phase detection auto focus. And I'd venture to say that most people really don't. But so as not to speak for everyone I'll just say that I never felt the need for PD-AF.

And I still don't. 

While the SL2 was a comfortable and high quality image maker at the time of its launch the company has done a number of firmware updates which have consistently improved the speed and handling of the camera. The biggest improvement for those of us who already owned the cameras was the company making the SCL-6 battery, which was introduced in the Q3, compatible with both older generations of the SL cameras. It adds about 25% more power reserve and that's important for a high data throughput camera that's battery sensitive. 

The SL2 was the first Leica I owned that could also be charged via the USB-C port and that gives zany working photographers a healthy dose of confidence that long running shoots that might draw down a couple of batteries can still be handled with the addition of external power. Nice.

My first SL2 has been in service now for about five years (wow! time flies). I would estimate that between work use and personal imaging use that body has seen about 200,000 exposures. It has yet to freeze up, lock up or fail in any way. In heat or cold. Or in rainy weather. It's built to be more or less impervious to weather. And I love the handling.

Late last year I picked up an SL2-S which is basically the same camera body and shutter mechanism but which uses a 24 megapixel BSI sensor instead of the 47 megapixel one. I bought it for the smaller raw files but I also found that its high ISO files were as noise free as anything on the market from Sony, Canon or Nikon. It's a great companion for the other cameras.

What we started with was a camera (the SL2) that still is highly competitive for resolution. Class leading for image quality. Has an EVF that makes manual focusing easier and more accurate. Has a thin sensor glass construction which makes it a perfect companion for M lenses. Does very good video. The camera has gotten better and better as firmware gets tweaked. All of this certainly speaks to its relevance at the time of launch. And since no one has made any meaningful and substantial improvements in the format and market segment the answer to its current relevance is.... very much so. 

Several of my friends who work professionally and had been firmly in the Sony and Nikon camps started buying SL2 cameras when the prices dropped below what they would pay for a Sony or Nikon body with a commensurate pixel count. They were universally blown away by the difference in operational philosophy. Happy to jettison so many useless and cluttered feature sets. And very happy to have a camera body that could make the highest and best use of their collections of rangefinder lenses; all at a higher level of quality than when they are used with competing brands of camera bodies. All for under $2500. 

If I get the urge to upgrade camera bodies it will most likely occur in the Leica Q family, in the form of a Q3 and then a Q3-43. And I can now get away with this because without specific needs of certain clients there's not a heck of a lot of imaging that can't be done with one of those two cameras. 

Would I get rid of the SL2s? Likely not since I perceive that their used pricing has bottomed out far ahead of my perceptions of their continued usefulness. In other words, the price drop seems too aggressive given the value the cameras still bring to nearly every shoot. 

In the past everything was changing quickly. Now we've hit a stasis in the camera industry wherein we can actually slow down and the enjoy cameras. And get a useable life of maybe five years to a decade before hints of obsolescence appear. Cameras from the best makers have become more comparable to the reliability of Toyota and Lexus cars that are well maintained. They are meant to be used for a long time and not recycle because to incremental steps forward. Witness my parallel use of the M240 cameras which were introduced in 2013. I love em. 

Keep those batteries coming....

All images from the SL2

 

"Margins Clear." That's what you really want to hear on a Tuesday morning. No exercise and no pool time until after the stitches come out on the 9th. Definitely what you don't want to hear on a Tuesday morning.

 

A wildly distorted iPhone selfie of the author.

Big, aggressive tumor now gone. Four hours of Mohs surgery. No cameras in sight. A big bandage covering the side of my face. Not as bad as I thought it would be... One less thing to drop dead from in the moment...

Mohs surgery is done on an outpatient basis. I chose to forgo any sort of tranquilizer and just leaned on the power of Lidocaine to skirt the pain of the incisions and the zany feeling of having catgut pulled tight on my face. A good choice? Yeah. Maybe. It did mean I was able to drive myself home afterwards. And when I got home I almost finished a small container of Haagen Daz rum raisin ice cream someone thoughtfully left me in the freezer. The cold ice cream took the edge off. 

Usually doctors are adamant about getting patients to move more, do more exercise, get that heart rate up, but it seems that having stitches on one's face requires a different approach. I've been asked, for the next five to seven days, not to do anything to raise my blood pressure and not to spend time sweating in the Texas heat. Seems the rise in BP that is induced while exercising can cause the sutures to bleed or fail. And I sure don't want that. 

It will be a novel, new experience for me to stay still for days at a time and keep my heartbeat nice and low. But I'm not sure how many days I can take that kind of torture. Bottom line? A week of negative scanning and no shooting. Of couch surfing but no push ups. And definitely not allowed near any nearby swimming pools. 

This was a big one so it will result in some scarring even though it was Mohs surgery which is reputed to be akin to plastic surgery in healing into almost un-noticed, tiny scars. My friend, David, suggests I might want to buy a motorcycle and become a biker. Say's biker chicks dig scars. I'm afraid I'll have to pass on that...

Well, when constrained from the usual daily pleasures It's probably time to whip out the credit card and see what kind of trouble I can get myself into at an online camera source. There are a few contenders...

It seems that I have more or less resolved to stop taking jobs. Entirely. The exception being fun projects from a small handful of clients that are always fun and interesting to work with. No new clients; please!

B. and my wealth manager concur that I won't run out of money any time soon. If ever. As long as I don't start collecting collectable Porsches or bid on any historic Leica cameras...

Air conditioners? Regular cars? Current cameras and lenses? All seem to be fair game by their standards. I've also found a restaurant that's so good I want to eat there every day. That should soak up any excess currency.

So, what's on the camera wish list? I would love to add an M240P to the mix. I have three M240 variants. Two of the black paint originals as well as an industrial gray finished M240 ME. The P model has no red dot on it anywhere, a quieter shutter and a faster, bigger buffer than the original. None of these things are necessities but I still think that camera would be fun to own and use. 

If I'm no longer entertaining all kinds of jobs I have give serious thought to winnowing down all the professional mirrorless cameras and lenses. Dumping the SL cameras, the Sigma fp, the Leica CLs, and all the accessories and parts. B. is opposed to this idea and is adamant that based on my previous performances I will just end up buying them all back or buying newer versions of them as replacements a few months down the road. I would argue but I suspect she may be right. Still, it would be nice to have only three cameras and a handful of much smaller lenses to choose from. On the fence about ever getting rid of the Q2. It's just pretty much perfect for casual 28mm and 35mm work. 

I still have a lot of lights, modifiers and stands over here and those would be nice to dump on some unsuspecting, young photographers who don't even know yet that they need lights. But maybe they don't. I tried to convince the CFO that some of the cooler LEDs could be artistically adapted to make great lights for the living room, the study and the dining room but that idea got squashed in a moment. It's one of the caveats about living with a designer --- stuff that looks good is a priority for them...

One thing that came up in my mind as I was going through negatives and scanning last week: I think it's important, from a hindsight perspective, to keep shooting because what we shoot today will end up, most likely, as the "nostalgia treasure" ten years and twenty years hence. Not as some imagined legacy for the progeny but selfishly, for myself. 

On another note, I've had my Subaru Legacy Sport for a year now and it's a fun, solid and reliable car. I'm keeping it. But I am looking for an eccentric sports car as an adjunct. I still have my eyes on the 2025 Subaru BRZ but several restored 911s have come on the market nearby that look really, really nice. 

Finally, when the stitches come out (July 9th?) and the operation is pronounced a success I'm on the next plane out of Austin. Either Vancouver or Montreal/Quebec City. Gotta use some of these cameras before the pass their "sell by" dates.

Kind of fun to be totally unencumbered by work. I haven't had this feeling since school. I'm learning to get over the fear of no boundaries and the conjoined anxiety that comes from change. Good or bad. 

VSL's creative director and chief technology officer goes rogue and leaves the Leicas at home. Will other cameras actually work for our temperamental artiste? Let's see....

 

The Sign at Rocky's walk up bar in the courtyard at the Austin Motel. 

I developed such a sweet and sharing working relationship with my Lumix S5 while photographing old negatives on the copy stand that, when the time came to choose a camera for today's outing, it seemed obvious that I'd take that old friend with me. I've fallen in love with that ultra-cheap TTArtisan 75mm f2.0 lens so that was a no-brainer choice of optics. My intention was to concentrate on making some more black and white images but I kept seeing color everywhere so it was a mixed grill of a day. Entrées  in black and white as well as color. I think it reduces friction if one can be flexible when working as opposed to pushing things into rigid silos for no good reason. 

In addition to just getting out into the fresh air and the almost always entertaining mix of people, I was also on a mission to buy a big Stetson straw hat with a brim so wide I could use it as a beach umbrella. My first stop off the sidewalks was at Maufrais Hat Shop. I can almost forgive them their usurious prices because the store is so well merchandised and the staff so congenial and welcoming. I looked at a dozen hats but every time I stepped in front of a mirror I realized instantly that none of them were a fit for me. I'll stick with the floppy canvas hats instead. I have plenty of options covering the entire backseat of my car. I need only reach around when parked to choose from straw to tech fabric to canvas, and also a plethora of colors. I think about hats more seriously now following the second skin cancer diagnosis...

With my head already covered and the only candidate for a new hat at the shop cresting the $250 mark I decided that I'm more of an REI $50 hat guy... I thanked the kind staff and headed back out into the regular heat and chaos of a Sunday afternoon in Austin's shopping district. And I was okay with that. 

The next stop was at Jo's Coffee for a big, big iced coffee (Robert! I sat down on a bench under the shop's awning to slowly and deliberately enjoy my coffee. You have cured me of the American habit of walking with a cup in one hand... thanks! KT). There I met up with my friend, David, and we waited to talk until a crazy street preacher on a bike fitted with a loudspeaker system gave up attempting to find any sort of traction at our location. Photo somewhere below.

David was sporting some sort of state-of-the-art Canon digital camera with an ultra fast 85mm lens on the front. It looked pretty cool. I showed him my battered S5 with its cheap 75mm on the front. He laughed and asked if the S5 was as good a "chick magnet" as any of the Leicas. Then he asked a more serious question which was: "Does it focus as fast as the Leicas with this lens on it?" And I sheepishly had to answer --- "It's better." 

The rest of my time there was just a walk through familiar places to recapture stuff I might have seen before but in a different way this time around. Captions to follow.

Rocky's. Window art. And below (devil and angel cats). 

Austin motel courtyard cushions.

Everywhere. Blue tables. 

Haven't even had surgery yet and already pining for pools. 

This one always looks delicious. I'll have to do a staycation here

one day so I can lounge in the pool and order Cuba Libres from 

the Hotel San José bar. But with an extra side of sunscreen. 

Underfoot stencil art soldiers on. 

OMG!!! The mannequins are back from vacation and looking spry. 

Summer is in full swing. Light covers everywhere. 

This is Amy's Ice Cream. All the ice cream is made in house. Most of the flavors are amazing.

This is the crazy street preacher. Way, way too loud and a disconnected sermon 

that sounded mostly like the ravings of a madman. 

Who wouldn't want to photograph Jo's Coffee?

I'm always surprised when I meet with David at Jo's. I didn't realize he has a perpetually reserved table. Honestly. Complete with a "reserved" sign. That's class. 

David.

I made an appointment with myself to worry for a while, between 2 and 4 pm today, about my medical ordeal coming up on Tuesday so I had to excuse myself from David's court and head back to the safety and solace of my home and office. And to savor the bounty of the new air conditioning system. It was a pleasant walk. I can't wait until the Christmas season when the shops decorate, one can wear more fashionable clothes, and the light slants in a more endearing way. Until then I take what I can get. 

Happy Sunday!

Sitting on the Spanish Steps in Rome. Circa 1995. Back when sitting was allowed.

 

Never stand when you can sit. Never sit when you can lay down and take a nap. Never pass up a restroom. 

Those were my old rules to live by....

Below are new ones I'm adding.

New adaptation for the Gen Z readers: Three things! Floss everyday. Use sunscreen every time you go out in the sun. Learn about the good and bad aspects of compound interest. 

For all photographers: Always check to make sure your camera has a memory card loaded and ready to go....before you get in the car and drive hours to your destination. 

Check your camera's battery. Even if it shows a full charge go ahead and grab an extra battery. 

The image above was from a shooting trip I made together with a fellow Austin photographer, back in 1995. We were at loose ends. He was changing direction in his domestic situation and we both wanted to get out of town. We both used some frequent flier miles to head to Rome where we spent ten days walking around, photographing stuff with Mamiya 6 and Mamiya 7 cameras. We didn't roam the streets together but every evening, mostly over dinner, we'd fill each other in on the best places we'd gone to during that day and how to get there. 

I was hanging out over by the Spanish Steps when I saw this young woman just chilling on the steps. I shot some frames. Some turned out.

When we got back to Austin we both printed up a mess of 24x24 inch black and white prints and had a show at our favorite Italian restaurant here (favorite...at the time...). Several hundred people showed up for the open. Not that the show was spectacular but my friend and I were both very good at marketing...

Time marches on. Archives march with us. There is a power inherent in 45+ years of photographing the same subjects... For better or worse.

B. Nearly 50 Years Ago.

What a strange week it's been for me. The air conditioner replacement ended up taking three days of my time. Don't ask! But everything is now finally working as it should and the house is comfortable again. Just in time since the temperatures are starting to spike and aim toward their usual Summer range of discomfort. B. was in San Antonio helping with her mom so the task of handling the project fell to me. 

I've had central AC units replaced four times in my adult life and it seems that the ones on the way out always fail at the least opportune times. Dead of Summer. In the midst of a heat wave. On a busy week. The cost of AC replacement for a house of a certain size increases year by year but this is the first time that I felt like I could just throw money at the project without consequences. I guess knowing that was the silver lining for the week. 

I'm a bit anxious about the surgery to remove some cancer from my face this coming Tuesday. It's not that I'm fearing some negative result of the procedure as much as this sort of malady seems to signal to me some sort of encroaching mortality. Something I can't just pay my way out of. It also makes me worry about what the next shoe to drop might be.

I tease a bit about my anxiety of being out of the swimming pool and away from my swim friends for the time it takes to heal the wounds and deal with sutures but underlying that is the very real uneasiness about having a changed routine. It will be the first time I won't be in the water for a couple of the hottest weeks of a Summer and, on paper, that doesn't look good. I swim with a psychiatrist who constantly tells me that doctors tend to be way too conservative and that I could be back in the water within a week. I'd love to believe him but... 

Over the last week I've been diving into older and older files of negatives and I showed, a few days ago, images from a long trip I took during my college days, to Europe. I'm not sure that it's healthy to revisit the past. For any number of reasons. But the reason it seemed to affect me the most is that the images reflected the sheer freedom I felt in those days. I traveled with a backpack full of clothes, a small camera bag, a collection of travelers checks in several different currencies, and a girlfriend. We had no real agenda for the months during which we traveled. We made no reservations at all. Not at hotels or restaurants. We'd just show up and see if a decent looking place had vacancies. Or if there were good campgrounds to be had. Or if a restaurant was filled with locals and had a menu that looked good. We never really thought about money, or getting back to work, or buying cars. We had a semester off and could do as we pleased. A fantasy for lots of people. 

So...  the photos reflect the casual and unhurried nature of the trip. Which contrasts so much with the next 45 years of teaching, starting and running businesses, raising a child into a fully functional adult and all the other stuff. During my 30s, 40s and 50s it always seemed like vacations were planned around work, and the need to get right back to work. Two weeks was about the limit I could tolerate before I started worrying about client base erosion, bills coming due and the logistics of running a business without employees who could take over in my absence. 

Seeing the old photos, revisited in scans and fine-tuned in Lightroom, makes me wonder now about the rationality of my early choices. Whether my focus in life was less than optimal. Especially now that photography seems to be, commercially, in a rapid and unyielding decline. 

I have to remind myself that no one could predict the future. No one makes choices in a vacuum. That my own life has been largely without serious trauma or deprivation. That I've been surrounded by good friends and loving family. 

And yet, seeing images from a time in my life when everything seemed possible, everything seemed to be in reach, and a time when we had decades and decades of runway in front of us makes me very nostalgic for that time --- when we were thin and beautiful and unencumbered by the mundanity of every day life. When everything we thought we needed fit into a backpack. When 401Ks and mortgages were an indistinct concept we could put off into the future. A time in which good hiking shoes were our easy aspiration.

For me it was also a time of first discovery in photography. Totally unconstrained by having to decide between cameras or formats or systems. When I traveled in 1978 my girlfriend and I shared the two cameras we'd brought along. Nothing more would make sense to carry along with us. While my grasp of the process wasn't has sharply and deeply honed as it is now that was compensated by the thrill of learning something new and looking forward a couple of months to making prints in a co-operative darkroom. Watching black and white prints come to fruition in the Dektol. Learning to make comprehendible contact sheets. And sharing the prints with small circles of friends. Having "beginner's eyes."

Scanning old memories can be painful. Lost love. Changing landscapes at home. A world that never slows down its changes; mostly for the worst. The images paint a clear picture of what's been lost for us and how much we miss those things when confronted with proof of their prior existence. 

The slender bodies of youth. The swimming holes not yet surrounded by endless subdivisions, quiet train rides unsullied by the relentless, banal chatter of people yakking away on their cellphones, mountains unadorned by recreational constructions and cameras that didn't beg one to surrender wholly to immediacy. No need to hurry out photographs. Something to save for later; for leisure.

I guess I scan them to remind myself that any talent I have as a photographer was already there in the beginning and that the relentless acquisition of technical knowledge, coupled with an ever increasing selection of "better" and better gear, had nothing to do with my actual enjoyment or competency concerning photography. In fact, some of the earliest images seem like my best work...at least to me.

I say, from my experiences, that you should be careful how deeply you revisit your past. It may make you happy but it may make you sad. There is always a tendency with hindsight to experience regret for the roads not traveled. If you are happy with life today it's not so dangerous. If you are more and more unsatisfied as time goes on then better memories from a time in your own past might trigger a sadness you might not want or need to deal with in the moment. It's the regret mostly that you didn't take the chances you were presented. Preferring, as we mostly do, security over risk.

Eventually all of the work will disappear. You'll be long gone. Maybe it's best instead to seize the moment, seize each newly arriving day and make the most of that. Better than longing for that full head of brown hair, that 30 inch waist, that svelte and amiable girlfriend, that open space with blue skies and clean air. 

Just a few cloudy thoughts after scanning too much of my early adulthood. Before routine and responsibility intruded. We always meant to slow down and enjoy that life again at the other end of being responsible but it's hard to unlearn the lessons of working, saving, focusing on making the bucks. 

It's hard to sever the umbilical cord of security...

What would we give to have back the energy and the potential we were richly endowed with 50 years ago? Knowing what we know now would we do things differently?

First portrait of B.

And 15 years ago.

And at a favorite restaurant now long gone.

And at the very beginning of the road.

Grab love and happiness while it's in your grasp.

I don't regret my choices. I do wish I could have better seen life's rich menu as we 

progressed along through the years...

 

Me. On the Eiffel Tower. October 1978

Scanning again. This is an image I took of Lou out at a downtown coffee shop. On film. Back in 1994...

 

The cameras in the film age didn't record metadata like the digital ones. It was incumbent on photographers to remember what cameras and lenses they used and what their settings might have been. I know this was taken with a Contax RTSIII because it was one of the only cameras I had that actually recorded the day in the space between frames. With that info I can see that it was taking in 1994. I remember pretty clearly that we were sitting around a coffee shop just South of the State Capitol complex in the mid-morning. I photographed Lou using an 85mm f1.4 Carl Zeiss lens that came with a Contax mount. I must have breathed during exposure because I missed perfect focus by a bit. Not a big bit. Just a small bit. 

This is a scan from the original black and white negative. I was testing for Agfa at the time so I'm sure this was AgfaPan 400 instead of Tri-X. I scanned this one using the multi-res mode in a Lumix S5. The resulting file was 8000 pixels by 12,000 pixels. You can clearly see the individual grains in the film when you ultra-pixel peep. The scan takes about a minute total. Load your neg into a film holder, blow off the dust (there's always dust), fine tune the focus under the Sigma 70mm Macro Art lens. (I use focus peaking on low and know I've got it when both sides show red focus peaking signals as well as the same in the center of the frame. A two second shutter delay and you are in business. The actual exposure is eight conjoined frames. It takes about 15 seconds to shoot and then render the file. If you shoot in raw the files are massive.

Then it's into Lightroom Classic. I use the curves menu to invert the negative to a positive and then I start working on adding much needed contrast and fine-tuning the exposures. It's fun. Kinda like when we first saw prints come to life in a wet developer tray. 

I love the "wide awake" look in Lou's eyes. She was just wonderful to work with.

=========================

Air conditioning install was too time consuming. And the techs had to come back and troubleshoot some condensation issues. Finally all figured out. I spent three days on this. I'm asking for a partial refund as a compensation... We'll see how it goes. But, bottom line, the house is nice and cool and everything is functioning as it should.

=========================

Slammed my hand into a lane line while swimming butterfly at practice yesterday. Blood in the pool. A one inch gash. But I did finish the set before I got out... stupidly. Now healing fine. Back in the water tomorrow with one of the world famous kid's waterproof bandages... Grrrrrr. 

That's all for today.