Shot this in Malaysia.
As a note, this roll of film went through at least 3 or 4 x-ray machines on the way back to the states. Looks fine to me - guess those xray machines ARE film safe. who’da thunk it.
I’m probably going to get a Pro account soon - this is a large format image, and so much is lost in compression.
The V500 has to scan this in two parts, but it was scanned at 2400 DPI - the Photoshop file after merging is about 200mb, and about 90 megapixels (11,187 x 8776 - suck it DSLRs). Its sharp enough where I can zoom in and read the text on the signs on the far left, and almost what is in the window. I can pick up the text on the gasoline pump.
Next time I’m up here, I’m re-doing this, but taking it much, much slower. More time composing, with my lightmeter, so that I can stop down to F32 instead of F8 and see what I can get out of it.
Choose to Chance the Rapids, Dare to Dance the Tides
Acts 27 has a story of Paul the Apostle crashing his ship on the beach of Malta it what is today known as “St. Paul’s Bay.” The crash site is supposedly south and west of the Salmonetta barrier island on the leeward side of Malta. It is here in the 1st Century, that Paul gets bit by a viper and survives. This happens during his 3rd Missionary Journey.
The reason this story is pertinent is that the Christian viewpoint has used this as an illustration of the fervor it takes to pursue the faith. It is an illustration that is used often in songs by country singers, Neo and Trinity when they go to the Source, in “Serenity” when Mal and the crew crash at Mr. Universes’, and Ripley grinding metal on metal in the transport in “Aliens.” The illustration and the symbolism is that against all odds, against all instincts of survival, you pursue the dream, the passion, the purpose till your body(ship) is broken and you have no life left.
Many times Craig(Pictured Here) and I speak on what our traits are, and we believe that we cannot do anything else. And to give in to those things, the trappings of a life less lived, one of safety, one of comfort and predictability, bothers our soul. Not that we have arrogance, or selfish pride in our job title, O the contrary, we have demeaned, and bond-servanted ourselves to a world that is cruel, all for the sake of buying precious time for a chance at something resembling our dream.
It is sad because an exit strategy from this, a departure from the goal set in our hearts by our guts, is an essential death warrant to the thing we have held on to for so long. I wish I didn’t have this drive in me to be passionate about what it is I do, because sometimes I think it will kill me. I wish I was good with working at a regular job somewhere punching a clock about 10 miles from where I grew up. Things would be much simpler then. I would have concerned myself with the everyday, lamenting over resolutions of tv screens, the quatity of hotdogs vs. freeloaders, the color of the microwave, the two-tone Pier 1 paint job of the living room, and the coaching decisions of the Tampa Bay Buccaneers.
But that isn’t in me. It would be dishonest to enter into that world without regretting what I leave behind. It takes courage to dream. And even more to follow through. And even more than that to follow through, fail, and pick yourself up again with the help of friends.
This is a crazy town, this city of Angels, 14 million people, and overnight anything can happen, one coffee meeting, one conversation changes everything. Only the ones that live here know and understand, and each time you pay the rent, that’s 30 more days of being in a position to have that conversation.
I am following this dream as best as I can, for I can’t do anything else. Otherwise, I’ll be the guy working at Bed, Bath, and Beyond who has stories of working on the set of Super 8, Indiana Jones, and Inception, that nobody will ever believe. And the body of my work and art will be like a beached hull of this ship. The sun will bake at its withered teak deck, the salt will erode the gunwhales, and the hull will decay with each crashing wave. You might as well have a Masamune samurai sword used to slice and spread butter.
I’m blessed to have people here in LA who push me, who team up with me to pursue this, who are storyboard artists, actors, directors, writers, models, art directors, photographers, and most of all friends. And our only mission is to help each other out to get to that spot. Al Pacino said it like this.
Paradise Cove, CA
Rolleiflex 2.8E Schneider-Krueznach 80mm Agfa Retro 80
Here’s a thought:
A photographer is walking through a village. In this village, it is not uncommon for there to be some amount of nudity. Men don’t always cover themselves, and neither do women. And of course, why buy diapers when you can just let your babies run around in the buff.
Said photographer captures a single picture of a young baby boy, naked and quite happy with it. It’s a good picture. it might even be a great picture. The fact that the boy is naked means nothing - people make it wrong, the boy is just out in the comfort of his village streets.
but said photographer knows that people are simply not that open minded.
So what is there to do? To post or not to post? i know most people would say, ‘post away,’ but i feel like there can be some trouble for posting naked pictures of children, even if it is 100% artistic - those horror stories of parents being tossed into the slammer for pictures of their kids aren’t untrue either. Thoughts?
Do you ever get that one roll, that out of a dozen other rolls, just seems to glow? its that roll where every shot somehow came out perfect, even the ones that didn’t. The one where you were so damn sure that you screwed something up, either with the push processing you did, or putting it onto the reel, or whatever.
yet it comes out perfect. 36 good frames out of 36, or something like that.
Just had that with a roll of LegacyPro 100, also known as Acros 100. This film, which technically expires this month, has weathered x-rays, hand checks, rough travel, sweltering heat, and my own inexperienced hand. And yet, this one single roll just came out absolutely perfect.
I’m used to getting somewhere around 10 to 15 good frames out of a 36 frame roll, with many due to shutter-jerk or poorly-metered scenes. But almost every picture came out perfect.
You can see all of them here through my flickr. I’ve posted a few below as well. And the most recent ones are from that perfect roll, all from the Siruvani area of Coimbatore, India.
It is a warm, glowing feeling to see what I had seen come through the film, when so often i seem to miss. The camera was battered, the ISO knob bent, the shutter sticking, the aperture lever gunked up, the mirror shaky, and yet it still took this whole roll so beautifully. It makes one truly happy.