Fun with "Aimée" and Steven

or is it Amy
I had forgot why I don’t like photographing weddings, Since it seems that Ally’s was deemed a success – even though I didn’t see the snaps I was a wreck – bringing too much stuff with the to the rock – not using Ubaldo for fear it would break down before the event, baking him up with Ubirajara and three magazines for him.

It is also the way I don’t like to work, when out I want one camera – well two different formats - one lens ( for each) one film – well I guess this way of working is shot because it is two types of film colour for the leiquinha black and white for the others. Driving to Bucktown I felt like those jock photojournalists as I had just about everything that took film that I owned.

I felt comfortable as I had bought Ziquinho as a backup to the moribund and fragile cameras that I had been using I was heading into Steven’s place with two 35mm for black and white and colour, Ubaldo and Ziquinho for medium format black and white and colour and two flashes.

The plan was during the “rehearsal dinner” I would use the 35’s to mimic the casualness of the affair - I know that I had already over thought this – the big guns would be brought out for the wedding. I even threw away the lens caps so that I wouldn’t leave them on the rangefinders. Proud of myself as how prepared I was.

The evening went well but it did reinforce my preference for one camera – I won’t go there again – as I was afraid that I would forget what was in what – as it happened at times in Bonne Bay – wow was ISO 100 film in that camera I thought it was 400. My photographic insecurity had me using the AK-47 method.

I drove back to Peasants Pissoir happy as it seemed to go well – well except for one of the camera straps grippy surface decomposing leaving a black stain on my shirt and hands.

I am ready for the drive in and in my new hard come by attempt to be calm on the road in I pass a pink brolly by the side of ML. I manage to recognise that I should stop – and not be a typical full time part time professor in a photo department in one of the galaxy’s best art school and think that merely thinking about making the snap enough. Went around the long block stopped made a few snaps when Ubaldo jammed.

No matter I think it is probably the battery. Drive in and then obsess in the middle of a tailback on the Eden’s when I try to change the battery. Nothing.

At Aimée’s and Steven’s the first thing that I do is change batteries. I also that Ubaldo has taken a bit of a battering as the viewfinder glass is cracked. At first nothing happens then it works – I am happy put the cameras away for the ceremony that evening.

30 minutes before the wedding the place packing I retrieve Ubaldo and Ziquinho. Make some snaps with Ubaldo but when I try to use Ziquinho the same thing happens – nothing.

Change batteries, hit the camera, panic, take off lens, put on lens, panic.

Then I remember that this is the problem that I had with Ubaldo so change lenses and Ziquinho comes to life.

It is the lens. IT IS THE LENS. My favourite lens – the one that I have been depending on in my newfound love of marling (Newfoundland English – swarving – wandering without purpose – it is the lens of choice. It is also the one for crowds as it was the wide angle.

Panic.

Then remember that I had Joãozão - Red Greened Joãozão with its duct taped bellows and wonky focus - as I was marling about Bucktown and Wicker Park. It became the sub. Used it during the wedding I hope that it didn’t decide to develop a leak then as I thought on how I would get the lens fixed.

If I were a typical photo professor at one of the galaxy’s best art school’s this wouldn’t have been a problem as I the next time I would actually make a snap would be around the time of the next solar eclipse but I am heading to Baltimore and want to use it there – when I get a chance – and worse I have another wedding to do in August. All my insecurities are back.

Now I remember why I don’t like photographing weddings.

EXERCISES IN MISREADING MYSELF –1

a bit techno weenie

In truth I bought it to get out of a rut. I now know that my mid life crisis camera -
Leica MP black paint 28mm lens - will never materialise as I was getting closer to being able to afford one until last year when they raised their price by more than $1000 and made it
truly a camera only doctors and lawyers can afford. I see myself – once again -
as a note taker and imagined it perfect for it. I also realise how illogical
this is as I came to this conclusion wandering the streets of Baltimore – a bit
safer than wandering the streets of Baghdad but I wouldn’t want to bet on it –
in my flânerie reverie. I cannot think of a place more stupid in which to flash
a camera that is more than the gross domestic product of some countries in,
say, Pigtown. I cannot see myself walking west along Route 40, MP dangling from
my neck and feeling safe. I treat Baltimore the way that most people told me to
treat Rio de Janeiro, problem is I felt safer in Rio. No matter I saw going
back to 35mm as a way of making images that don’t scream significance due to
format and difficulty of use. It also could be me, my stubborn trend again as
everyone seems to be using larger and larger formats and work becoming more and
more self-conscious. But is the Nikon FM2 is a form of slumming, while I like
the honest blue collar feel to it,
it is sort of like the original Volkswagen useful for just about
everything but there are newer cameras that do it better, it is too clunky it
doesn’t fit well in my bag, especially now when one’s bag carries all the
modern conveniences simply because they have been miniaturised. Notebook and
pen is replaced by laptop. I like the finite feel of film, compact enough so
that one can take a lot but not the infinite feel of a gigabyte memory card. I
can see my progress by the rewound film.

Postponed

I knew before I opened it - a slim envelop. Slacker days of college admissions applications had me knowing that nothing good comes from thin envelops.

This one from Dawson City and the K.I.A.C. a rejection for a residency next summer. That road trip to the True True North postponed a bit.