one red speaker

The Sears Portrait Studio was everything I had hoped for. Click the image for the high-res version. It’s worth it.

I don’t even know where to begin. Let’s start with the look on my face. Exercising all my willpower, that’s the best I could do at not cracking up. Even before the shutter was released, I knew exactly how epically awesome it was going to be. Let’s review the facts:

• We’re at the Sears Portrait Studio.
• I am thirty-one years old. My brother is twenty.
• Our clothes were picked for us from our dad’s wardrobe.
• These shirts are entirely too large for us. Especially for me.
• We are unironically wearing inverted shirt/tie colors.

The end result is legendary. Look at our faces! And the colors! And the bunching around our shoulders! So amazing. Seriously, we look like we’re straight out of a Bollywood version of Dick in a Box.

Of course, our mother absolutely adores it. The things we do for her. Love you, Mom!

So after getting home, my parents informed us that for the first time in over a decade, we’re going to have a family portrait taken. Of course, it didn’t occur to them to tell me and my brother this before we’d packed. All we brought down were hoodies, t-shirts, and jeans. “No problem,” says my dad. He’s got plenty of clothes that should fit us.

Shiny yellow twill oxford a couple sizes too big? Check. Heavily pleated gray wool pants also too big? Check. Abstract red and gold tie? Check.

This is going to be awesome.

Addendum: They gave my brother a shiny red shirt with a yellow tie. This is going to be seriously awesome.

Disclaimer: I’m not a photographer. I’m just some dude with a camera.

I’ve been shooting with a Nikon DSLR for a little over two years now. In that time, I’ve captured a little under twelve thousand images. Right now I’ve got a D90 with a Sigma 30mm f/1.4 lens. The combination is magic. The super-wide aperture of the Sigma with the sensitivity of the D90 gets me usable images in near darkness. It’s pretty amazing.

I’ve been becoming more dissatisfied with the camera for non-technical reasons, though. First of all, it’s just heavy. It takes a toll on my shoulder. Second, there’s a good number of people that don’t like having a huge piece of glass pointed at their face. I’ve only began to notice this discomfort in New York. At first I thought it was a regional thing, but then I realized in Virginia I was mostly taking pictures of close friends, while here it’s branched out to friends of friends. My Virginia friends had become accustomed to it.

I actually never wanted to own a DSLR. All I’ve wanted is a close to normal perspective camera with a fast lens and a large sensor. The Nikon was a necessary evil to get the pictures I wanted, and over the last two years, I forgot about my desire for a less conspicuous camera. A few months ago, though, it was rekindled when the new Micro Four Thirds cameras from Olympus and Panasonic were announced. They won’t fit in your pocket, but they’re still much smaller than my Nikon. More importantly, they look like a point-and-shoot. They are just far less intimidating cameras. After months of conversations with Phoebe, we each ordered a Panasonic GF-1.

Physically, the camera is perfect. It’s built like a tank and the controls are intuitive. The 20mm f/1.7 lens takes gorgeous pictures. Unfortunately, though, it simply does not have the low-light performance of the D90/Sigma combination. While I knew it wouldn’t be as good, I was hoping it would at least be good enough. I guess I’ve been spoiled, because I decided I couldn’t make the tradeoff. The camera’s going back.

It’s too bad, because it’s definitely a camera I could’ve fallen in love with. Some day my dream camera will arrive. In the meantime, I’m going to invest in a padded strap.

“The details are not the details. They make the design”
-Charles Eames

Right now, the details are driving me crazy. I have one exposed brick wall in my apartment. A 66″ portion of is raised one brick’s width from the rest of the wall. I’ve fastened 2x4s to the sides of the brick on either side of the raised portion as part of a picture hanging situation that I’ve been dreaming up in my head since I moved in.

I learned a few things. First, the brick wall is not level. In fact, in a room with no right angles, what does level even mean? I decided to just let the bricks define level. Second, the brick wall is not flat. The wood is definitely bowed out in places and rotated out in others.

One of the holes I drilled isn’t exactly centered and the wood pulls away from the wall a few millimeters more than I would like. Even worse, the top is fine. The bottom is the issue.

Next I need to put nails into the wood. I figured I’d used the bricks as a guide and put a nail in at the midpoint of every other brick. Lo and behold, the spacing of the bricks is not at all consistent. I can choose between having equidistantly spaced nails looking a bit off center relative to the bricks next to them or nails that line up with the bricks but are not equidistant.

It’s at this point that the madness sets in. The wooden overhang taunts me. I can hear my name echoing in the bowed out gaps. The bricks themselves are screaming at me.

I know I should ignore them. I know when it’s all said and done, eyes will be drawn to the photographs, and this framing will disappear. If anything I should embrace the imperfections. I really should not give it any thought.

But seriously, how can I not?