goatee

highlanders feed

°2019.07.16.Tue | Passing time

Goose pond

Sitting by the water, Nora and I occupy ourselves playing twenty questions about people, places, and things across nineteen years of shared experiences.

°2019.05.13.Mon | Casper on a rug

casper

°2019.02.21.Thu | Are podcasts making me even more solitary?

I just started listening to Hidden Brains’ “Close Enough: The Lure Of Living Through Others.” I was expecting it to be the usual digital-self story I could skip, but I haven’t because of the focus on YouTube: a man who watches how-to videos instead of making stuff, a women who watches other womens’ meticulous bedtime routines to relax, and another woman who imagines being a musician without making the effort to do so.

I watch a lot of YouTube myself: how-to channels on boat building, lock picking, and knife making; explainers such as veritasium, CGP Grey, minutephysics, and Practical and Real Engineering; channels about alternative living and tiny homes. I was a huge fan of the user-generated content on Current TV – and was an early adopter of a DVR to remove the awful adverts – and I see YouTube as a fulfillment of its predecessor’s vision. Of course, not all of my 120+ subscriptions are user-generated: many news, visual arts, music, and documentary channels have mainstream media outlets as well. Still, I watch more YouTube than anything else, including Netflix. As someone who loves to learn, the allure is strong.

Although I don’t feel I’m living vicariously – and don’t feel guilty about watching YouTube, especially in the winter – I do have a different concern, in which podcasts are also implicated: I live a relatively solitary life. This has two obvious reasons: I am a shy introvert, and I’m well beyond the age of making lots of friends. Generally, that is fine, I live simply. I’m wholly content to spend a nice day with my spouse and our dog walking about the city, or sitting at the park and chatting with our dog friends. But I wonder if YouTube and Podcasts undercut one of my significant social drives: interesting conversation.

When I was younger and single, I’d spend my evenings in cafes. I could read, chat with newcomers and old favorites, and then leave when I wanted – a perfect scenario for an introvert. I also belonged to a few groups that welcomed heterodox discussions. I do have good conversations with my spouse, brothers, and students; I am fortunate. Still, I wonder if the quality and quantity of podcasts undercuts my motive to seek out good conversation? To put it in terms of the Hidden Brain episode, do I now live much of my conversational life vicariously?

°2018.11.21.Wed | Silver Lake at Breakheart Reservation

breakheart_reservation lake pano

°2018.11.05.Mon | Autumn Leaves at Breakheart Reservation

nora autumn leaves breakheart_reservation

°2018.08.17.Fri | Circles inside and out

park chicago river

park chicago river

park chicago river

°2018.08.09.Thu | Recounting my cameras

I look at my old photos often; it’s why a take them. I was recently wondering how many cameras I’ve had over the years (see Twitter).

After a Canon Rebel film DSLR in the mid-1990s, my first digital camera was the Fujifilm MX-1700. It was great to have a camera where I could see immediate results. It had 1.5 megapixels and was okay in bright light, but it struggled hard with indoor shots: lots of noise and slow shutter speeds, resulting in lots of blur. But I still have some favorite photos from then (1999). The Fujifilm MX-1700 was an odd looking camera, with a vertical design, but with the move to digital, why retain a film-based design?

In 2002, I moved to the FujiFilm F601ZOOM. At 3MP, its photos have twice as many pixels. Low light was still a struggle, and dynamic range was limited with plenty of blown out highlights.

Still, I have hundreds of photos from the F601ZOOM, some of which were in very difficult circumstances, like this concert photo of Matisyahu.

matisyahu

In 2007, I upgraded to the FujiFilm F40f. It had a horizontal point-and-shoot form factor. Digital SLRs were a thing now, but I prefer easy to carry compact cameras. Your best camera is the one you have on you.

The F40f was a modern camera, with a respectable 8M pixels, decent dynamic range, and facial detection auto-focus. I’d often hop on my restored muscle bicycle with the banana seat and ride around Red Hook Brooklyn.

I really miss those evening rides.

In 2011 features beyond megapixels started making a difference. I wanted to return to some of the manual control from film days but also go even smaller. I erred on the side of super compact: the Canon PowerShot ELPH 300 HS. It was so tiny it was awesome. 2011 was also the year a certain fuzzy critter makes an appearance in the albums.

The ELPH was also so tiny it was also only useful as a point-and-shoot. I returned to FujiFilm via the XF1 in 2012. The XF1 was my first camera to have a fake background blur that is now common on smartphones. Neat for photos of ginger beer bottles, but not for anything with a fuzzy edge.

I began 2013 with the Sony RX100. A tiny camera with a 1-inch sensor and viewfinder. The inch sensor meant excellent dynamic range, good low light performance, and some control over background blur (e.g., Casper taking a bath). Five years later, I still find its images beautiful.

In 2014 the perfect compact camera arrived, the Lumix LX100. It had a M4/3 sensor, fast zoom (f1.7 at wide) and manual controls! For years I dismissed complaints about dust getting inside to others’ carelessness. But it happened to me in 2017. I paid to have it serviced, took it to Prague this year, and the sensor dust was back.

I still use it when shooting with an open aperture (where the dust isn’t visible), and hope the rumors of a better sealed LX100ii are true.

This incident prompted me to get my first interchangeable lens camera in twenty years, the GX85. I can blow any dust off the sensor myself. I also enjoy using a telephoto lens.

That’s nine cameras (mostly inexpensive digital compacts) over twenty-three years. Not too bad in a hobby beset by GAS (gear acquisition syndrome).

°2018.05.31.Thu | Vegan in Prague

flora_cafe seattle nora food

We haven’t been to Prague for seventeen years and much has changed in that time. Notably, there are now dozens of veg* restaurants. Every neighborhood has a few.

Nora and I use the “Vegan Guide to Prague” as our basis and collected a few notes along the way. These are roughly ordered in ascending preference.

  • Loving Hut: they are okay in a pinch, but I quickly tired of Asian-style buffets.
  • Maitrya: Buddhist themed, lackluster food. We asked for tap water and got expensive “vitalized water.”
  • Pure Bistro: a tiny bistro and store near our place, for which I was grateful.
  • Mlsná kavka: had an excellent veggie burger.
  • Herbivore: upscale bistro and store on the river with a buffet of good food – though the bread was stale.
  • Happy Bean: a bistro at which I got a great quesadilla with vegan cheese. The proprietor is very charming. Sidewalk seating is available.
  • The Donut Shop: next door to the Happy Bean, this shop offers three vegan donuts options, including one of the best donuts I’ve ever had. (Things aren’t so sweet in Prague, so you don’t end up feeling queasy when finishing a donut.)
  • Incruenti: I think our risotto and soup was the best food we had during our trip. Its menu and hours are limited though. Nice patio seating in the back.

°2018.05.08.Tue | Flowering tree

flowers street

°2017.11.27.Mon | Leaf on radiator

leaves

The window open
a leaf on the radiator
A warm November