Writing has been coming slowly lately. I have been learning my new camera instead. I took the training wheels off and am using all the manual settings. It had to happen. I couldn’t figure out the auto-focus, and I didn’t read the manual. Accidentally, I discovered how to adjust the shutter speed and aperture opening. I began paying attention to the exposure reading. This had all been a homecoming for me, coming back to photography as a medium for expression and relearning the camera.
My eyes are different now. They are over forty years old and showing their age. Or perhaps, they are showing me their age by what they cannot show me. Many of my recent images have very soft focus. I am non-systematically trying to determine why. Is the lens is slow? Is it the depth of field - because of the time of day I make photographs, or lens length? Is it in the viewfinder adjustment?
My family is allowing me to make images of them. I wonder why. Again, perhaps it is the cover of twilight, that beautiful time of day when all is softened and retiring, and the Wood Thrush is singing good night and the Fireflies are readying in the shadows.
Recently, I have felt my writing was cramped up. My personality, too, and I was wishing for a space of my own. A space that is not shared with bills, paperwork, orders, and personal events. Just a quiet, stretched out place, silent and freeing.
Today, this is my effort to stretch out the cramps.