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Keith Fey's avatar

Don't jump, not yet any way, your writing, black dots on white paper, writing as Ansel would have Adams'ed ..I can feel the sounds of the breath of saurian, smell those delicious sulphuric acid explication..but the camera no longer clicks, just a staccato stuttering, aiming gulward. Missing like a child on his first hunt, not enough lead or leading...

You write like Ansel photographed I bet you capture magic too..

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Salty Notes From Nowhere's avatar

Keith, That hit like lightning through wet film. Sulphuric acid explication? I’ll be whispering that for weeks.

You’re right—the click’s more stutter than song lately. Like the camera’s grieving something I haven’t named. I aim, the gulls move, and I miss. Over and over. Maybe that’s the ritual.

But “you write like Ansel photographed”? That’ll echo for a long while.

Thank you, truly.

—Harry

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Keith Fey's avatar

Clay gull shooting with a Hasselblad,,, its all in the lead,, i filmed an Eagle Owl recently,,, brilliant beak and tail shots, foliage for body parts and wings… I know the disappointment.

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Happy Nielsen's avatar

I’m not a photographer but now I have the existential dread of one

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Salty Notes From Nowhere's avatar

That means it worked.

Welcome to the club. We don’t have jackets—just expired film, broken tripods, and a creeping awareness that we might be embalming our own joy one shutter click at a time.

You’ll get used to it. Or you won’t. Either way, you’ll start looking at the light differently.

—Harry

(and Bob, who’s been dreading existence since ISO 400)

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