The Typewriter

Sony Mavica MVC-CD500 Digital Camera: Not Worth It

SonyStyle.com | CD Mavica^® MVC-CD500 Digital Camera

iHubby brought home the Sony Mavica MVC-CD500 for me to tryout after I complained that my little 3 megapixel kodak just wasn't cut out for doing the kind of serious photography I do. I put off trying it out for a few weeks; the opportunity just didn't come around. Finally this morning I decided to run it through some paces, beginning with a couple of generic test shots, without flash, in the living room with the morning sun streaming in. I decided that the difference in contrast would tell me right away how well it handled the broad differences. She shoots...she waits! Oh my gawd. This thing has a little CD writer in it (I knew that) but I didn't think it would take so long to write to the disk. I timed it. On fine, aka highest quality image, which is the only kind I take, it took one minute and fifteen seconds to write the image to the disk. I couldn't do anything else with the camera while that was happening. Try waiting for over a minute for your camera to be ready to take another picture. It's excruciating. And completely unacceptable. I didn't bother finishing my tests because at this point it doesn't matter.

Some Week

This has been some week. I wish I could say it's been particularly nuts, but it hasn't. It's just the same insanity as last week and the week before. The inability for us to get our jobs done because of vendor inadequacies is having a snowball effect on things that aren't directly impacted by the vendor. It's taking so much extra time to follow up, and the volume is steadily rising. Not unlike a broken sea wall trying to contain a flood. I'm managing two and three escalations a day, where prior to mid-April it was maybe once every two weeks. It's taken a toll on all of us, managers and associates alike, and it's a no-win situation. We were forced into a corner, forced to utilize a middleman who can't perform, while both they and we are sorely understaffed (which is documented in our staffing model). And inevitably someone from senior management is going to say "you need to examine your processes and resolve these issues" - as if we actually caused this situation. That last hasn't happened yet, but I cynically think it will by the end of the year. Because, you see, this vendor hasn't performed to contract in two years. And I see nothing to suggest that will change anytime soon. I will do all I can to help salvage the situation. Maybe with the weight of our business partners, who have extremely high standards, we can enact some positive change. In the meantime, however, I'm aggressively putting feelers out to other organizations for whom I'd like to work.

Photography has been a great outlet for my stress, but this week I haven't had any time to play. I did do some location scouting one morning this week. It was disappointing. Norfolk is not particularly photographic, from my point of view. How many damn harbor shots can a person take, anyway? I have to really reach to find interesting things that are out there waiting to be photographed. The botanical garden is glorious and I can spend hours and hours out there. Otherwise, Norfolk is kinda the pits for an ourdoor and landscape photographer. Even the architecture is middle of the road.

Ah, obviously I'm feeling frustrated over my work and my artistic environment. I'm sure they feed off each other. This weekend we'll be working in the yard: building planting beds, clearing space in existing beds, to plant all shapes and sizes of glorious perennials, paving the way for bulbs in the fall. I had a striking realization about gardening. I garden so I can photograph it, because plants and flowers are things I love to photograph. When I broke from photography in '97, I slowly stopped gardening. Now that I'm back into it, I want to garden again. Sure there are lots of positive by products of this...nice yard, lovely flowers for vases, time outside. But it was always a means to an end. I marvel at this need to garden for photography's sake. Otherwise, I simply wouldn't garden. And haven't for eight years. I guess we'll just see if that theory holds up.

Occoquan Regatta: Woodbridge, Virginia

Amazon.com: Books: Examples : The Making of 40 Photographs

Occoquan Regatta this weekend. I'm testing the new 70-300mm lens. Lots of "wow, what a big lens you have" comments. I didn't realize I'd get that kind of reaction. Hopefully they won't comment so much next time I haul it out. I don't care for the attention. Shot about 60 images; lots of doubles because I keep my finger on the shutter too long. I wonder if that is an option I can manage? Anyway, half a roll of Kodak 160NC, a roll of Kodak 200, and another half-roll of the 160NC. I think I prefer the VC more than the NC, but we'll see. In any case, no chromes this time! I'm inspired to find a tiny cabin on a lake/river/some kind of water to escape to on weekends, near beautiful places to photograph. I'm also inspired to buy a boat. I think I'm romanticising everything here, but I find photography kinda romantic, so it one follows the other. Anyway, a couple of photographs of daisies at the water's edge, a test shot of a flying crane, some water weeds. The upside of this was scouting a new shooting location. It's a lovely area and I think there are some opportunities for a very large lens.

Ash's varsity eight came in third; Pat's novice four also came in third. Ethan and Pam were there and conversation with them, as always, is delightful. I met a few other mother's but escaped because I was getting tired of the "mom clustering." The trail to the viewing area was a mile of alternating level trail and steep inclines. I can walk a mile but I'm out of shape for steep inclines. It's good information to have because I do want to do some more hiking. I need to start slowly. Beginner level.

Books: Why People Photograph: Selected Essays and Reviews

Amazon.com: Books: Why People Photograph: Selected Essays and Reviews

I'm reading this book. I would like to read and read and read but find I must stop and digest each essay. The essay titled "Edward Weston" is compelling. Or was it the essay critizing a "biography" of of Paul Strand? There's so much to understand. There's so much to contemplate, really. Not that I necessarily agree with all that is said, but I enjoy the other perspective.

Robert Adam's calls one photographer a "pictorialist" and goes on to talk about the soft lens approach, manipulating a scene by eliminating what is ugly or undesirable. My first question to that is: Is being a pictorialist bad? and then, "Doesn't everyone manipulate the scene to some degree? I mean, as landscape photographers we try to crop out the "junk" in the
view. I think he implied that landscape photography leans toward pictorial inclinations but that the "sharpness" of the images tends to keep it from being considered pictorial. Maybe I misunderstood that. But I don't think so.

And what, exactly, is wrong with being a pictorialist? I have one image that is lovely, used a Pro-Mist #1 on it, and absolutely manipulated my position in relation to the what I was shooting to keep the nearby food tent out of the view. Adam's doesn't direclty imply that it is wrong, but he starts to make a case that it isn't truthful; a point with which I disagree, and even began to feel defensive. Against a book. Jeez.

I elect to not photograph ugliness. Which is not to say that I don't photograph decay and age, also known as History to some. I believe these are two different things. But I don't photograph hunger or homelessness or war. I'm not a street photographer, I don't care to engage in that kind of art. Although, Adam's questions whether that is really Art, or whether it's another flavor of journalism. There is an argument to be made that they are one and the same. For another time.

I think I have more to say about this but these are thoughts have been stewing around in my mind since I began reading "Why People Photograph" a few days ago. I'm half-way through the book and it's one of the best investments I've made in a long time.

Saturday Morning

Harrisonburg, VA.

Wow, lousy night's sleep. Maybe because I'm excited to be here and didn't feel guilty for being here and didn't feel all pitiful lonely. Ah! I need to find a map of the area. The temperature is 18 degrees, and there is some patchy cloud cover. I'm right next to a Lowes but in the distance there are hills and fields covered in frost. I should get some coffee and get going. I've had my breakfast (ham and cheese on sourdough that I maded before I left), and coffee is free in the lobby.

Over the river and through the woods

to Harrisonburg, Virginia I go. It was a very long trip from Norfolk to here - I would say about five hours but I ran into some Friday traffic so I'll say more like 4 to 4 1/2 hours. It was dark pretty much after Williamsburg, which means at least half the drive. I thought about the fact that I do not like driving at night and yet three hours of my drive was at night. Maybe I'm ok with it if I HAVE TO. Or haven't already been driving for five hours. Ya, it's probably something like that.

The hotel didn't have my reservation when I called to make sure they didn't give my reservation away. I booked through VacationWired.com. They'll be getting a phone call from me and, hopefully, I'll get a refund or something. The published rate at which I booked was $75/night. I'm in here at $99/night, which I'm not real thrilled about but didn't feel like quibbling about it. Better to wait until morning when I and the front desk people are fresh.

I'm sure I drank too much caffeine - one Venti and a 32 ounce Diet Pepsi. Who cares. It's not like I'm on a business trip. I can do whatever the hell I want this weekend and no one is going to say "Oh, you shouldn't do that..."

Although my stated purpose is to "take pictures," the Woodrow Wilson Presidential Library is out here, which I didn't know, and would like to see since I've never been to a presidential library. Lots of history out here.

Staunton smelled like skunk. Or selenium. Something chemical. It made me sneeze. There was fog coming off the mountain when I came through Waynesboro. The hotel here is teaming with nubile and pretentious teens. There is some kind of high school dance - like a Winter Prom or something like that - and my god I remember that age and how the entire world revolved around me and how someone my age now was so old. I have graying hair, my body is drooping and sagging, and I wear comfortable clothing because I have better things to do than constantly adjust the bow on my oh-so-chic blouse. Or whatever. I'm not sure what my plan is for tomorrow, yet, but I have half a dozen brochures to look through.

TGITh

Bonus time is a good time of year. I splurged on a port replicator (Viao) and Prarie Home Companion tickets (April). I almost felt guilty about the port replicator, but it's an ergonomic thing, actually, and affords me one extra USB port. And, eventually, allows me to conveniently attached a 19" monitor. Or pick up and go at will (it comes with it's own power supply, yahoo!)

iHubby is in Richmond this week - he returns this afternoon. I've missed him in part because I've missed our routine. I want to tell him how excited I am to have my new infrared filter - and that it works! When he travels, he knows how to take care of himself. When I travel, I tend to splurge and not take care of myself. And I've been thinking about that alot lately and I wonder if it's because I didn't live alone very often in my early twenties. In fact, I think I lived alone for about four months. Really alone. And that's it. iHubby, on the other hand, lived alone for most of his 20's when he wasn't onboard ship. He's had a chance to explore what it means to take care of yourself. I know what it's like to exist around others, although I don't think I know well how to take care of myself in any context because it's always been about compromising time, space, or both. In retrospect, I did begin to learn how to do this in the context of my marriage. Then the boys came to live with us and that all pretty much fell apart and neither of us has been able to recover that since. We think we can once the boys are out on their own - out of the house!