Archive for June, 2011

Out With The Old

June 30, 2011

It was my first “professional” lens and for a long time it was my only lens. The Canon 24-70mm 2.8. When I bought it I felt legit, like a real photographer. I loved it and the images I was able to deliver using it. Over the past year and a half however, my shooting style has evolved and as I began to invest in new lenses, I started to reach for my 24-70mm less and less and finally not at all. But I couldn’t let it go. I continued to pack it in my equipment bag. It was my security blanket. If I ever got in a pinch, I knew I could trust it to deliver.

Over the past few months I thought constantly about selling it and investing the money in to a new lens. A lens that I would use regularly and one that was proving to be a necessity with each wedding I shot. But I just couldn’t bring myself to let it go. Finally, 2 weeks ago after struggling through some detail images at a wedding I was shooting for my friend Tessa, I decided now was the time to cut the apron strings. I needed a marco lens much more than I needed the security of carrying around my 24-70mm. So scary and all as it felt, I sold it. Now I know technically this scary deed happened a couple of weeks ago, but today was the day I reaped the benefits of my bold decision with the arrival of 2 new lenses. The Canon macro 100mm 2.8 which is going to be amazing for capturing the details of a wedding dress, bouquet and of course wedding rings. And the 24mm 2.8, which is perfect for wider angled images. Sad and all as I was to let my 24-70mm go, I have to admit, I’m less sad now that I have these 2 bad boys in my arsenal of equipment. Scary decision to let go of an old friend? Check.

I took the marco for a test drive today by photographing my own engagement ring and eternity band. And can I just say, I LOVE IT.

My 2 new bad boys.


June 29, 2011

Today’s scary deed was unintentional and at the complete expense of poor Crookie’s tail. In a moment of lapsed concentration, I slammed the car door on his tail as he dismounted from the back seat. He screamed and wailed and did the worst thing you could possibly do when you have a tail caught in a car door, and that is to try and run away. He bucked and squealed in terror as I raced towards the door handle in what felt like cinematic slow motion, mouthing the word “NooooOOooooooOOoooo“. Upon his release Crookie ran straight for the safety of his crate and stayed there for a good 15 minutes processing the event, while I processed my feelings of guilt and shame. Scary unintentional incident of slamming car door on doggies tail? Check.

Understandably, Crookie approaches me with some caution for the remainder of the day.

All Things Mechanical

June 28, 2011

I don’t deal with car issues, or I do, but not really. When I say “deal” what I really mean is I tell The Husband when there’s a problem and he takes it from there. Cars at a mechanical level scare me. I don’t speak the language and there’s a big chance if asked, I’d tell the mechanic the noise coming from my car is as a result of a malfunctioning flux capacitor. To which he would understandably raise an eyebrow.

But since its “Scary Week” and my car has been giving me some issues in the electronics department, I decided not to wait until The Husband gets back on Friday to have these issues resolved, but to go ahead and put all my fear and anxiety aside, make the call to the garage, succumb to their mechanical cross examination and do my damnedest not to sound like a complete and utter flake. After playing the avoidance game for a good hour or so, I finally made the call, survived the barrage of technical questions and set up an appointment to take my car in tomorrow. Scary phone call to car mechanic? Check. Pause for victory dance.

Scare Yourself

June 27, 2011

Today I saw a quote on a shopping bag of all things, the quote said “do one thing every day that scares you”. Just seeing the quote scared the pants off me cos I knew I was about to take the shopping bag up on its challenge. How could I not? The thing was practically daring me. So today, I decided, is the first day of “Scary Week”. I will challenge myself to do one thing every day that scares me. Starting today with the announcement of the challenge, which I’m finding very scary cos now that I’ve put it out there, I have no choice but to deliver. Failure is not an option. Wish me luck.

Scary night-time shot to kick off “Scary Week”. P.S that white streak going across my photo was not the meteor they thought was going to strike the earth today, it was just a passing plane.

Eat Cake

June 25, 2011

“I’ll just skim a little off the side, nothing more than a millimeter. He’ll never know and I’ll satisfy my chocolate craving, its a total win-win”. What I wasn’t expecting was a cake so moist, luxurious and chocolatey, with a layer of frosting that was just the right combination of sweet and creamy. Who was I kidding, that millimeter wasn’t gonna satisfy anyone, especially a girl with a beast of an addiction for all things chocolate, I’d definitely have to take a smidgen more, but thats it, then its cake away, back in the fridge where you belong. But unfortunately that wasn’t it. 10 more return visits to the fridge and 10 smidgen’s later we are looking at a half devoured birthday cake. And not my birthday cake. No, it was my bestfriends. Due to his own lack of will power and severe addiction to sugar, he’d been keeping the cake in my fridge so he wouldn’t be tempted to eat it all at once. For some bazaar reason, he thought his cake was safer in my hands. As my Leaving Cert English teacher would say “thats an example of irony girls, underline it”.

After a miniature panic attack, a brain racing with many a fabricated explanation and the urge to drive the bakeries of Atlanta in search of a replacement cake, I stopped. He’s gonna know it was me, so why was a I wasting my creative juices and my gas trying to cover up the blatantly obvious? Instead I would offer up the truth, with a side of cupcake and a bottle of wine. Guaranteed the situation would get funnier with each glass.