Why is someone who is a self-confessed poor photographer writing on a photography blog? Well, the answer is simple. You don’t have to be good at something to enjoy it. I started taking photographs when I was about 7 years old. My father gave me a Penguin bellows camera that took 120 roll film. The thrill of framing my subject in the viewfinder and pressing the shutter was only surpassed by the expectation of the image that would be revealed after the chemist had worked his magic. Most of my shots were family, with heads cut off, or a cat’s tail and a space that the cat had previously occupied. A combination of poor focus and camera shake marred most of them, but that didn’t dampen my enthusiasm.
I progressed to a Contaflex fixed lens SLR when I was 16 and my family shots mostly had heads. The 35mm semi-wide angle lens meant that most were in focus too. The cat still eluded me though! A variety of film cameras saw me through photographing children, family events and holidays. The thrill of the shutter press and resulting wait for the film to be returned never diminished, though my photographs didn’t improve much.
As my buying power increased I eventually went digital with a Nikon D80, then a D90 with a plethora of lenses. These got in the way and were heavy to carry, so I downsized to an Olympus EM5 with a plethora of lenses. After a while I realised that I was paying so much attention to the kit that I was no longer enthralled by the shutter press. The lure of the instant gratification of the digital image drove me to perpetual chimping and I had lost the magic of the act of taking a photograph. I pondered what to do next and had an inspiration. I changed tack and bought a Fujifilm X100.
The optical viewfinder, aperture dial and shutter release felt just like my old film cameras, yet was blessed with reliable autofocus and delightful image quality, I revelled in having to zoom by foot and re-engaged with the act of taking a photograph. Whilst writing this it has occurred to me that I have also stopped chimping, so have the magic of seeing what images I have captured when I get home.
It’s not exactly like the old days. I don’t cut heads off, the shots are in focus and the cat is in the frame! They aren’t works of art. At best they are a record of a point in time, but I don’t care. I am back to enjoying taking photographs!