Micro Purpose

I set auto ISO to 6400, shutter speed at 1/30, and manual focus. I pick some random object at about 10 feet away, and pre-focus the lens. And then I step out of the apartment, into the night, with a micro purpose.

I want people to see that I am taking pictures. I am not going to be sneaky. Well ok, not one micro purpose. Several.

To capture images on the street, of people, is very easy. To capture interesting images of people on the street, ridiculously difficult. So I ease myself, I take a shitty photo of a building, "with people."

Shitty picture of a building. Yawn.

But here is the thing: I crouch into a wide stance, I take forever to focus (because I had previously set to about 10 feet, and I just basically ruined my plan..), and I am OBVIOUSLY taking a picture. Not too far away, I see a man in a wheelchair, my brain says, "hmmm this is an interesting shot, because, man-in-wheelchair-against-the-stream-of-oncoming-everyone-else-people." It's a stupid idea. But my micro-purpose tonight is to make it obvious that I am taking pictures. So I crouch into my wide stance again, I lift the camera to my eye, and I focus. Now, everyone but the man sees what I am doing. I think, better than the building shot.

The man and I are waiting for the light. And I think, "oh another interesting shot." (Look, I know the shots are stupid. But I am in my 10,000 crappy photo journey, so, it's got to be this way, for a long long time.) And I compose, shoot, compose, shoot, repeat. He turns to me, says something that I can't hear. I walk towards him, and show him the picture of himself. "Oh man that's nice." I pat him on his shoulder, I say, "Thank you."

I try a new restaurant.

I have coffee. And I play with my Digilux 1.

In Which Boxy Adorable Is More Important

Finally the Leica Digilux 1 arrived. The battery hardly holds a charge anymore. Don't care. The moment I took it out of the box, I was drawn by the chunky boxy silver+black and pretty much everything about the way it looks. I continue to be a sucker for beautiful things.

This point-and-shoot, from 2002, is large. Today, I think point-and-shoot means tiny, in shirt pocket, you know, smart phone sized. But the Digilux 1 is most certainly not pocketable. I am glad about that. I like to hold it. It is not too easy to hold. It is surprisingly slippery. Don't care.

I tried the camera in low-light, my normal tango thing. Fail. Just too difficult. The photos from the Digilux 1 were uniformly "terrible," except that... I loved the ways that they were terrible. I know, I have a serious problem.

But since I don't get paid (not quite true, but true enough) to take pictures, my camera doesn't have to be flawless. It can be temperamental, as long as it is the kind of temperamental that pushes my gush-my-love buttons.

I was able to convince these two lovely pieces of toast to be my model. Interesting the low shutter speed here... I haven't looked at the specs (remember I told you that I was too busy coo-ing?) and yet the lovely toasts were in focus. I like the way that Digilux 1 (perhaps I will call it Digil) rendered the complexion on the crusts.

I had to pay these chairs to model for me. I am glad that I did. They have such beautiful legs.

Adore.

On the Eve of Acquiring a Leica M9

I am about to bought a Leica M9. Long story, another time. A nutty story..

Anyway, I took out my Fuji X100 to the 18th Street Lounge Milonga. I am beginning to understand it, to understand the meaning behind the symbols in the viewfinder.

Last week, Jake (at Eastern Market Tango Club) asked me about my photographs from 2 weeks ago... I said, "well, I used my $100 camera... and my $4000 camera." He laughed and laughed and laughed. "But more importantly," I said, "I realized, fuck realism." He nodded. He, a poet, translator, dancer, understood me.

Early last year, fed up that I was not growing, that I was creating more of the same, I told him that I was going to stop taking photos at Eastern Market, that I felt stale. I was bored. Jake told me, "Do whatever you want to do with your photography here. This is your place to explore. You are always exploring and challenging yourself (and other things that he told me that I am not going to bore you with)..."

So I stuck with it. I looked for new ways to grow. I looked for my true self (oh my.. so trite, but, I was really trying to understand "art," when I had been, my entire life, "engineer.")

Anyways, I have been on this, "fuck it" mentality. I shot, with absolute care-free mind...

I shot, believing that what I did with my camera was justifiably mine.

I pointed my camera into the space before me. I saw the dancers, and I believed in myself.

Sometimes You Just Have to Bring Out the Big Guns

Note to self: for some images, bring out the big guns. The adorable Pentax Q just cannot capture the details, in the way that I know my other cameras can.

... this is beautiful bullshit...

I could have brought a tripod. I could have taken time to set up the shot. I didn't. I mean, I pat myself for stopping the car, for spending 10 minutes trying different angles, different camera settings.. But, in the dusk, with the sun nearly disappearing (well... it WAS after work..) I knew that I needed stabilization, but... the truth: lazy.

Lesson to self: do it the right way, as much as possible. Otherwise, shut up.

Using The Leica T to Take Crappy Photos

The Leica Vario-Elmar-T 18-56mm f/3.5-5.6 ASPH Lens arrived! I went to the Eastern Market Tango Club Milonga, super excited to try it out. I was in trouble, with the low light and fast-moving dancers.  In my mind: "No problem. I am going to take crappy photos and I am going to be super happy with my new toy!"

I mean, what's the point of using a $4,500 gear combination (yes I know don't go there I am a camera junkie money has no meaning) to take crappy photos? Why bother? What's wrong with me? What kind of photographer am I?

Yeah... good points...

It's not enough that I have inferiority issues, and at the same time, I have strong opinions about what I like and what I don't like. This, I don't understand, but anyway.

In 2015, other than camera phones (because of their slow response time and long focus time), cameras are just, simply, awesome. Really, there is no justifiable reason that any photo should be crappy... except, oh right, a person "made" that photo.

I guess there is a difference between deliberately taking crappy photos (because it's just too damned difficult to take a good photo) versus try to take a good shot and I am just crappy at it. But this is, and I am getting to the camera junkie part, TOTALLY different from the choice of gear. I love the Leica T because (yes, again, enamored by the looks) it is so damned beautiful. It is so ridiculously sensuous to touch. It's too expensive? Yes. It's fun. It's not even the best camera or the right camera to use for this environment. Yes. But I am a camera junkie. I use a camera to touch it, to look at it, to adore it, and by the way, to take pictures.

I try very hard to take good pictures. I do. I have very strong opinions. I love my shots, even if they are crappy. I love them for very personal reasons. And I am working on accepting that.

My Poor Family and Cameras Everywhere in the House

My poor family... Any time, anywhere, if I think a moment is interesting, or BETTER YET, an imminent moment will SURELY be INTERESTING, then, snap snap snap away... I have a camera everywhere in my home. I am ALWAYS ready. I am always thinking about the cameras and what settings they are on, so that I can spring into action, at a moment's notice.

My poor family. They accomodate my silliness. Sometimes they yell at me to shoo me away. Sometimes they yell at me, to get me to capture a moment. Mostly, I am Mr Normal and Crazy Photographer, and they never know when the Crazy Photographer* will pop up.

And just to spice it up. I have my cameras on manual focus mode. Because, well, that legitimizes my self-label of an enthusiast. No self-respecting camera-junkie shoots in (intelligent) auto mode. No no no, it has to be creatively manual.

I love the Fuji X100 so much that I sold it and then bought it again. I hated it so much that I sold the first one. But I missed it so much, its body so beautiful, so clearly a CAMERA, that I bought the Fuji X100s... twice. And then, I had a one-night stand with the Fuji X100t... A ridiculous way to tell you that I am completely irrational when I see a beautiful camera. I have reunited with the X100, my second X100. And I love to stare at it.. and the cute red button I added, to add a touch of color.

Because I have owned so many cameras, and now still have so many, I found a sneaky way to own more: I buy prior-generation-but-still-awesome cameras at ridiculously low prices, and give them to my friends... I tell you this because, after I got my (second-chance) Fuji X100, I saw another one that had an insignificant flaw, for a good price, and I almost bought it, until I REALLY looked at the body, and I smacked myself. The Fuji X100 does not have an obvious "auto mode." Once, a friend, on seeing a precious moment, grabbed it, to capture the moment, and then realized that she had no idea how to use it. Oh... I have come a very very long way, from not understanding anything about cameras and what they do...

The Camera in My Car and How It Changed Me

Ever since I kept the Pentax Q in my car, I began to pay attention to everything, all the time, around me.

This was last night, right after work, and I KNEW KNEW KNEW I had to take a picture of the fresh snow on the bare trees. I don't travel to capture exotic and beautiful scenes. I don't have models. Really, all that I have are the mundane moments of a normal person living a straight-forward life... Well, except for the tango part, that's just weird.

In any case, last night, I resolved to ALSO stop by the bridge, and once and for all, take a shot of the lake just beyond.

Suburban Landscape from a Bridge by jaime montemayor on 500px

I stopped the car just past the bridge. I change the settings on the diminutive Pentax Q (OMG what a fantastic discovery and treasured find). I walk back onto the bridge. What I didn't expect, was the onslaught of the pressurized air (from the passing cars), the vibrations beneath my feet, and how utterly close the cars were, as they whizzed past me. My knees shook. My mind thought about how drivers are drawn to unusual landmarks, and I was the unusual landmark. I wondered about the stupidity of standing on that bridge. Meanwhile, I poised the camera onto the scene, and I shot away. When I returned to the car, everything had changed. My senses were heightened. My car sounded different. The wind passing over the car sounded clearer. The road ahead of me seemed crisper.

I am so glad that I stopped the car.

When I am not Taking Pictures

My friend Max likes to take pictures too. But he doesn't have a camera. So he "steals" my camera when I am dancing. A few years ago, I wrote on a tango group page on Facebook, that anyone at the milonga is free to use my camera to capture images. I wanted them to share the joy I felt, when the beautiful people and their lines overwhelm, I MUST, I am compelled to pick up the camera and point it at the dancers.

Photographers are rarely in photos, I think. A shame, yes?

Photo by Yulia Kriskovets

Even When I Tell Myself to Leave the Camera at Home

I ALWAYS have a camera with me (camera phone does not count). Sometimes, I get so sick and tired of taking tango photos ("always the *yawn* same why do I keep taking the same same same same same???") that I force myself, yes, force, to leave the camera behind, and to go to the milonga, just to dance, to socialize (even though I am not particularly social at dances) Take a break, I say to myself.

And then I get to the milonga, and I see all these beautiful people, and their beautiful lines, and I take out my camera phone (sigh the stupid camera phone). And in the low light, the movements, the shots are destined to suck... And I don't care, because, it's as if... I am addicted...

Forcing Myself to Take Ten Thousand Crappy Shots

I am very comfortable capturing photographs of tango dancers. I have done that for a number of years. When I snap a tango photo, I have confidence that the final image is what I imagined in my mind.

With practically every other subject, I suck. I force myself to take pictures of streets scenes, of landscapes, of buildings, you name it, I suck in all of them. I see a "beautiful" or "interesting" (but this is quite debatable) image; I capture it; I look at it later on the computer; I cringe.

For some time I wondered why I suck so much. And then, I hit myself over the head. I have taken tens of thousands of tango photos, and perhaps hundreds of, say, buildings. Of course I could not yet possible develop a sense, a mental correspondence between reality, the viewfinder bounded image, and what my brain thinks through that viewfinder.

So I force myself to take thousands and thousands of crappy photographs, until my brain learns. As to interesting and good... well, I hope, in time, I will get to that too. But I suspect, if I were to submit any of my photos to 4chan/p... well, I would get demolished... Which reminds me, I NEED to make it a monthly (can I take it?) ritual, to send a photo for C/C (comments and criticisms), on 4chan/p, and let the bruisings help me become better...

It's not just having the camera. I force myself to stop the car, get out, and take the shot.

Choices and Guilt, as in, Guilty Pleasure

A beautiful moment; my daughter is painting. The light is just right. I dash into the bedroom for the camera. Which which which? I have a choice, the Nikon V1, Nikon V2, Fuji X100, or the Leica T. I have not gone on a date with the V2 for a while, so I take it and went back to record the moment. I drift into that mode, in which the world is purely what I can see through the viewfinder. I check the shutter speed, the ISO, the aperture. I trust the V2's auto focus. At first, I use the single shot mode. And then, I change to the multi-shot. The camera is busy now. Clickclickclickclickclick. So fast that I am excited, seriously. I am excited because my engineer brain thinks, "I LOVE this machine and I LOVE the engineer who made this."

Then, a second thought, the inevitable thought, it always comes: "I can't possibly sell this camera. It is so... capable..." (And yet, I do remove them from my life.) I tell Irina about this second thought, and she laughs, "Why do you even need to sell your cameras? I mean, you have three by the bed right now." "Guilt," I said. "You feel guilty of having so much?"

I do feel guilty, of being able to have so much in my life, so much fun, enjoyment...

I mean, this fetish, to love gear, it is ridiculously pleasurable, and... perhaps it's ok that I have so much.

The V2 and I on a date, to Dupont Circle's open market.

A Hug a Day and the Pentax Q

I think that camera junkies, at any time, have a camera fund and a collection of cameras. If a junkie has a lot of cameras, then no money in the fund. If there is a lot of money (what???) the junkie scans impatiently the online boards... for the next love affair.

At the end of last year, over the course of 2 weeks, I sold a lot of my things, to purge, to cure myself of this affliction. I know, it was futile; I was doomed. Anyway, my fund was overflowing with cash.

I monitor an aggregator site, that tells me all the best deals of the day, and the Pentax Q (S1) came onto my radar. Pentax??? Hmmmm???? I watched lots and lots and lots of videos about the Pentax Q. Everyone gushed, and I mean, it was obscene the way they coo'ed and stroked their Pentax Qs. The Q is tiny, said they. But, it looked simply small, not tiny.

Some kind of visual trick, I think. Because, several days later, I bought one, and won a bid on a second one. Speaking of buying two... I have a tendency to buy a camera, then acquire additional stuff (lens, batteries, etc) for it, thinking that I would be (this time it's for sure) forever committed to the camera, for life, to be faithful.

So I got the camera. I opened the box, and I gushed. OMG, it is adorable. So tiny. Not small, TINY.

This picture cannot possibly convey the adorable-ness of the Q. Instead of my V1, V2, Leica T, blah blah blah, I brought the Q with me everywhere. I giggled when the crazy art modes rendered neat images. Oh now I understand why everyone giggled in the videos, as they stroked (lovingly) their Qs.

I have very complicated relationships with my cameras. Sometimes I don't want to think and I want them to do everything for me. Sometimes I want to have all the control, and I want them to cede everything. Sometimes I want them to challenge me, "if you love me, you will find a way to make this relationship work."

Anyway, I have my two Qs, and I am thinking, perhaps it's time to finally have the Leica M9. Don't ask me about my decision process. You can't ask a camera junkie to rationalize his relationships with gears. I also secretly think that the significant other of a camera junkie is glad that, during late nights, when the computer is on, the camera junkie is reading about cameras (and believe or not, often, even those that he already owns). I know, we are weird like that.

It really doesn't matter, AT ALL, what cameras I own, or how expensive they are, or how easy or difficult they are to use. It doesn't matter to me, although it does to so many, that my images are utterly imperfect and incorrect. It does matter that I try my best to capture what I want to capture. And, it matters the most, that I am ok with that.

It's not the sword, it's the swordsman

A fellow tanguero (a man who dances Argentine Tango), and a photography mentor, on seeing an instagram photo of my new-ish acquisition: the Leica T, commented that, "It's not the sword, it's the swordsman." Of course, because I am a camera junkie, I had to validate my camera-habit, and I replied, "It's the sword, my friend."

Naturally, a shoot-off, a challenge, between his crappy phone camera and my most expensive camera..

At the milonga (a dance party of Argentine Tango music), I had 3 cameras with me: iPhone 6 plus ($750), Pentax Q ($125), and Leica T ($don't ask). I am not going to show you his pictures, because, that's not the point of this story. Actually, I want to tell you what I desire: to capture the inner moment. But first, let me just show you a few pictures, yes?

This was from my phone. Heavily processed in Snapseed. It's crappy right? Except that I love it, and my friends love it. Why? Tango is ridiculously intimate. The dancers, each pair in their own private heaven, glide around the room. How to evoke the intimate? I thought: well, what if I have to, and still, only barely see the dancers.

These two came out of my tiny and adorable Pentax Q. Again, objectively, they suck, with all kinds of artifacts, background distractions, etc. etc. etc. But do you see the joy (in one), and the tranquility (in the other)? The inner is painted on their faces... Let me share with you an open secret (everyone in tango knows it, but perhaps not the outside world): the woman's face, during a dance, does not lie.

The Leica-T, with the Summicron lens, rendered this moment so (surprisingly, every time) beautifully. Notice the unreasonable slow shutter speed and high ISO. This is the photography world I live in: people who move fast, low light, bad light, and background distractions. And I relish in the nightly challenges of remembering the moments. I digressed. Yes, this image, out of the Leica T, with minimal post-processing (I shot in JPEG), is definitely better. And yet, in my mind, so what...

"Did I capture the inner moment?" That's what I always wonder to myself. Is it just a boring photograph of people dancing? Is it sterile? Can people "feel" the joy? I really, honestly, don't know. But I am telling you, whether I succeed or not, in my mind, that's what I try to do, every time, to remember, not just the people, the place, the beauty, but also, the inner moments. I know, I am a fool.

... By the way, I won. ;-)

Being Unprofessional

Friends have asked me to capture special moments in their lives. Sometimes I agreed. Sometimes not. A friend asked me to be her wedding photographer. She told me that she loved my tango photos, and that she loved the "looks" of my images, and that she wanted me to record her wedding.

I declined. I told her that it was precisely because I was not accountable to anyone, that I didn't have to promise to deliver anything, that I had the freedom to just shoot photos, that I was able to present the photos (in tango) that she loved. But, a wedding required a professional. Someone who would, and could guarantee results. There would not be the option of, "oh sorry I wasn't able to get any good shots."

The professional guarantees results. I, an enthusiast, thankfully, do not have that obligation.

On the other hand, I love to play with my friends...

Thinking by jaime montemayor on 500px

The List, as of Now

Yes I really have owned these (not all at once)... The astericks are the cameras I have at this moment.

1. Nikon D70*
2. Nikon D7000
3. Nikon D700
4. Nikon D800
5. Nikon D700 (2nd time)
6. Nikon 1 V1*
7. Nikon 1 V2*
8. Nikon 1 V3
9. Nikon 1 J4*
10. Nikon Coolpix A
11. Nikon Df
12. Sony NEX 3
13. Sony NEX 5n
14. Sony NEX 7
15. Sony RX1
16. Sony A7
17. Fuji X100
18. Fuji X100s
19. Fuji X100t
20. Fuji X-T1
21. Fuji X100s (2nd time)
22. Fuji X100* (2nd time)
23. Fuji X20
24. Leica X1
25. Leica X2
26. Leica M8
27. Leica T*
28. GR DIGITAL III
29. Sigma DP2M
30. Panasonic LX5*
31. Panasonic GH1
32. Panasonic LF1*
33. Olympus OMD EM5
34. Olympus E-PM1
35. Olympus E-PL1
36. Pentax Q* (2!)
37. Lytro Lightfield (weird...)

Gratuitious tango photo.

I Have Dated...

Scene from the Commute by jaime montemayor on 500px

Over the the past 4 (or 5, I forget) years, I have dated owned played with many many many cameras. It began quite innocuously, and then, I found myself putting some money away every paycheck, so that I could "just try" the "next new thing." And I found lots of writings on the internet. And, the worst thing of all, I found online buy/sell boards...

I am not a professional. I think the appropriate label, one that describes me well, is that I am an "enthusiast." I love the craft of photography AND I love gears. I try to create "beautiful" images, or "memorable" images. Here, "beauty" and "memorable" are meaningful only to myself, and not necessarily to the world.

Many friends have, over the years, asked me for opinions and recommendations regarding cameras and lenses... and even techniques... I always answered in earnest, sharing the knowledge that I acquired from ACTUALLY owning and using gears. Some have asked why I don't share publicly. The truth was, and has been, until now, that I needed to find my voice, my center, to be comfortable with myself, and my relationships with gear, with the discipline of creating images, and most importantly, with accepting my views about my life in photography as legitimate.

There are thousands and thousands of online information about cameras, lenses, charts, comparisons, etc. Here, I share my experiences on the interactions (between a human and a machine) and my inner thoughts and struggles.

After all, in 2015, pretty much all "decent" digital cameras are awesome. Seriously. Pick up anything and you can probably get a great shot. Yes, some require more work than others. And unless one has very specific technical requirements, the choice of gear really comes down to the human and his/her idiosyncrasies, and not so much about the machine...

Do you see that? I just wrote my opinion. That was actually very hard for me. In any case, I am going  to be as honest as I can, as I confess my camera fetishes obsessions relationships.

Olympus E-PM1

I got this camera and kit lens on a popular online camera Buy/Sell boards, for $130. Yup. $130. I don't think it is meant to be used as a "serious" "professional" camera. In fact, there are few mode dials on the body. You can get to them easily enough. These photos were all taken in auto or art mode.

Hello World

I am a computer scientist. I am also a camera junkie. I love gears. I love machines. I love machines that let me explore my creative side, and remember life around me.

Thus, Hello World!