Technolust

I've had my trusty Canon EOS 10D for four years now, and it's traveled with me from Japan to Norway (along with a host of other countries which don't flaunt international whaling treaties). By 2007 standards, it has all the power of a Ford Model T with the sleek styling of...well, a Model T. Still, I've grown fond of it, much the same way a parent feels fondness for even the most aesthetically challenged baby, and managed to convince myself that it wasn't the size of the sensor, it was what you did with it that counted.

Then I made the mistake of going to the Sonimagfoto trade show in Barcelona a few weeks ago, and got my hands on a new Canon 40D. Imagine the sudden realization that not only have you pulled your Model T up next to an Aston Martin DB9, but the baby in the improbably-small back seat makes yours look like the lead in a children's production of The Hunchback of Notre Dame. It's faster, smaller, has almost double the resolution, automatically cleans itself...and carries a price tag just over 1,000€. I went home that day feeling a little guilty for forsaking my trusty 10D, and even guiltier for wondering at the same time how much I could get for it on ebay. I resigned myself to waiting a long time to get a 40D of my very own.

Fast forward a couple of weeks to last Tuesday, when in the space of 24 hours I got email messages from two different travel guide publishers, looking for a Barcelona-based photographer to do some work for their guides. Without giving away the names, both of them are well-known publishers of travel books, covering most of world. Thanks to a fortuitous connection (hi Sal!) they had heard that I might be available and willing to do some freelance work. I hesitated a few seconds, so as not to seem too overeager, then emailed back to say that I would certainly be both willing and available.

I'm actually embarrassed to admit that it took me several minutes to realize that these two jobs could not only pay for the 40D, but they were also a great excuse to buy it in the first place. I mean, at the risk of beating the metaphor to death and then jumping up and down on the corpse, would you hire a delivery driver who showed up behind the wheel of a 1908 Tin Lizzie? Rationalization firmly in hand, I set out to look for prices.

At this point it seems like a happy ending, but there was a catch. When I rushed home to tell Amy about my airtight plan, she seemed less than overjoyed. After a few minutes' prodding, I found out that she had already constructed her own airtight plan, involving a brand new 40D and my 40th birthday. She argued that the coincidence of the model number and the age made for a perfect birthday surprise, now ruined; I argued that, as far as I knew, my 40th birthday was still several years away. I also pointed out that the EF 400mm f/5.6L USM also has a "40" in it, but I don't think it was much consolation.

In any case, the important fact in all of this is that very soon I may not only have a shiny new toy, but I'll be able to hold a book or two in my hand and say, "I shot this, I'm a professional photographer." Who knows, maybe I won't be pushing bits for the rest of my life after all.

You haven't lived

...until you've gotten up at 2am to give a cat an enema.

It's been a long week.

Season of change

Autumn has always been my favorite season. October in particular holds a lot of my best memories: hayrides and Halloween, crisp autumn days under bright blue skies, and the panoply of color as the leaves turn and tumble toward winter. Especially growing up in Ohio, autumn felt like a deep breath of cool air after the stifling heat of summer, a lull between the bustling activity of summer and the arrival of the holidays. It always seemed to me like a contemplative time, one that put me in a pensive mood, and still does, I suppose, even today.

It's also been, more often than not, a time of changes. Maybe that tradition sets in during the first years of school, when each autumn brings new classes and new friends. Whatever the reason, a disproportionate number of the big changes in my life have happened around this time of year, which just adds to the natural air of nostalgia. It's become a time for taking stock, looking back and thinking about the future. And, of course, a time for making overly-introspective blog posts.

Now that I'm living in Spain there aren't as many autumn leaves, and wiener roasts and pumpkin pies are hard to come by, but my own internal calendar still marks off each autumn. You can keep your spring flowers and winter wonderlands...October and I will always have our memories.

Inscrutable

I'm finding myself smiling a lot more than usual today, for reasons unexplained.

I think it's making people nervous.

forced downtime

Sitting at a cafe on Boulevard Sant Germain in Paris with five hours left to kill before my flight home. I guess I should thank Vueling and their lousy schedules for giving me a little bit of mandatory down time.