When I confessed to my brother that I nabbed the camera from his room, he told me I should have taken the other camera that was there, the Pentax K2, which is a better camera and was in perfect working order (I had to get the Fujica's light meter repaired).
The next time I came back to New Jersey, I did take the Pentax K2, which was the older brother of the workhorse Pentax K1000 that just about every photography student uses at one point or another, and the flagship camera of that line.
Anyway, after I took the K2, I didn't use the Fujica, so when Josephine wanted to get into photography, I lent her the Fujica. That's what's intriguing me about this roll of film, it might be hers! From seven years ago!
I'll see when the roll comes back from the lab on Friday. The Fujica isn't working again, so I had to switch the roll out to the K2 to finish it off. I hope I didn't expose any of the frames that were on the roll.
The only thing that makes me doubt that this is Josephine's film is that she kept a lot of my stuff in the break-up. How did this camera get back to me if it was in her possession at the break-up?
January 5, 1998 - Ocean Beach, San Francisco (yep, that's the Fujica, click and check it out)
I spent this morning in the photography section at Borders, reacquainting myself with the art and aesthetic. I don't fool myself that I'm a good photographer. I don't have a good eye. So many people I've known are just naturals. They point a camera and shoot and they come out with great shots. I'm not one of them. I just enjoy it and get some lucky shots once in a while.
I think there's an argument that art fits in with mindfulness practice, although there is the possibility of ego-attachment. It's important to focus on the process as mindfulness practice, and not on any ego enhancing sense of creating "art".
With black and white photography, you have to be mindful of the light, and be discerning of its qualities. You have to be equally mindful of the shadows, because if you're not paying attention to the shadows, why the hell are you shooting the light?
Composition is all-important. Even if you're shooting nothing, at least practice composition. A well-composed shot of nothing is more aesthetically pleasing than a great subject that is poorly composed. But if you find a good subject matter, that's better, paying attention to foreground and background.
And texture, but that's something I'm still trying to figure out. Anything else?
January 16, 2003 - Ocean Beach, San Francisco
