Thursday, 10 March 2011

"The camera doesn't make a bit of difference. All of them can record what you are seeing. But, you have to SEE. " - 365 Project, Day 10

I have mentioned before that my cat's survival instinct deprives me of sleep, usually in the vicinity of 6:30 in the morning.  Today was no different, and seeing as I want Tux to live for another day, I fed him.  The pessimist in me would say I would like to sleep longer, given that, if I don't, I will have to somehow compensate on my loss of sleep, and I don't really feel like napping at 3 in the afternoon (which I did, by the way).  However, the optimist in me seems to enjoy certain mornings.  Tux nibbles (cough*gnaws*cough) on my fingers, purrs and nudges me to wake me.  On certain days where my sleep cycle coincides with his intention to feed, I end up with fairly vivid memories of my dreams.  The last time this happened, I dreamt I was walking in a random mall, chatting away, with an ex-co-worker I haven't seen in a while.  Though I feel slightly heavy-eye-lided in the afternoon, remembering dreams is always a treat.

In the past few months, I have been scouring the internet, imbibing any and all information about cameras, lenses, comparisons, photographic techniques and pretty much anything else you may think is photography-related.  As my brain reprocesses this information at night, I find myself dreaming of cameras and other such paraphernalia more frequently than usual.  Upon my waking by my delightful feline alarm clock, I once, still half-asleep, had a notion about camera lenses, which may or may not have been the remnant of a dream.  As people open their eyes in the morning, still more asleep than awake, their vision exhibits flaring, ghosting and haloing.  Lenses of every type, regardless of their quality or build or focal length, exhibit the same thing to one degree or another.  Isn't it a romantic idea that these flares and ghosts might be fragments of lenses' dreams or lost memories?  The chromatic aberrations that sometimes show themselves are not flaws in the lens, but the lens itself stretching after a little rest period.  Or it's half-remembering pictures of the last photographic expedition.  Or perhaps it's telling you what the picture should look like?

The camera can do anything you want it to do, but it will never snap the perfect shot, with the perfect exposure and composition if you don't tell it where to do such things.  It is not the camera that sees.  It needs a vision to reproduce. The onus for that vision is squarely on the photographer, and it is the photographer's most important creative force.

All of today's pictures represent a certain vision (more so than previous days, to be sure) in one way or another, and I really enjoy these moments.

Frank


His note: A collection of cameras that represent so many years of early photography.  If these cameras could talk!!!!!

Mandy


Her note: This small birdhouse hangs by our front door. Although uninhabited by a family of birds at the moment, it looks like it has seen a lot from season to season.

Shannon

Shannon was in the elevator on her way to her floor and wanted to see how far the reflections could go.  Can you count the iterations?  It's like a Chemical Brothers video.

Pat

You'll notice later on that many of my pictures will probably be taken at night, and there's a good reason for this.  Look at yesterday's picture and compare it with today's.  Days are usually quite bland and lack any kind of pop (especially in this weather).  It may seem like a cop out to take essentially the same picture as yesterday, but there's a reason.  Nights are colourful, vibrant and show life, especially in photograph.  You have many options in taking a picture.  This scene here, is dull.  There's one way to photograph it, and this is the one way.

This has been my favorite day as a whole for doing this project.  I dislike my own picture (for obvious reasons), but the three others are very nice.  Tomorrow will bring a different vision, hopefully just as visual!

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