I’m terrible with New Years resolutions. Remember how I promised to write my blog every week? Yeah, that was fun. But I’m returning to it now with a vengeance, only this time I’m resolving to un-resolve a resolution I made last time. Hear me out, you might like this. There’s madness to my method.
Let’s step into the way-back machine, shall we? A couple of Januarys ago, I had resolved — solemnly promised, I seem to recall saying — to stop making excuses about the iPhone as a less-than-perfect camera and use it unsparingly and unapologetically in my daily rounds and walkabouts. And that, my friends, has worked out remarkably well. It’s a zen thing, really and truly, since the iPhone seems a naturally reflexive part of my eye and brain. It’s impossible not to take pictures, and it’s always gratifying to look at that big, bright screen.
And yet, and yet…
There’s a part of me — the old-school photographer part — that sometimes misses the mechanics involved in creating the fine photographic image. Oh sure, I can run the software perfectly well, but I’m talking about something more visceral and tactile. More eye-to-the-viewfinder sort of thing. More camera.