It would appear I was too hasty in posting pictures of Rachel…as taking second and third glances over the sets we shot seems to keep turning up images I end up liking better…

…or at least, it is in a sense. Tuesday night I likely took the last images I’ll ever shoot with my Nikon D50. The arrival of the D90 signaled a sudden drop in price of the D80s (which I’d hoped for, having wanted one for 2+ years) and made the acquisition of one feasible.

It’s interesting to think about it from an angle of closure. There are many fond actuations this camera has shared with me and yet many shadows its shutter has also captured. I’d almost feel like keeping it if the money I’ll get for its sale wasn’t rather necessary at the moment…but then I think to myself that it’s just the nostalgic packrat in me speaking when I tell myself such. There has, though, been plenty of intangible investment in it. Some people like to think that they have a piece of them forever captured or stolen when they have a picture taken of them. I think it feels a bit like that from the other side of the viewfinder for me. For that reason, it both deserves honorable remembrance and also a firm ‘burial’.

It’s rather fitting that one of the last people to share the camera with me would be the first person I shot with it when I purchased it: Rachel. It’s been fun thinking not just of my own evolution since I’ve held the camera, but also hers. She’s really become one of the most breathtaking women you’ll ever gaze upon…and it’s odd for me express that. Not because it isn’t true…but because I know her. She knows what I mean…

Also helping me put the camera to bed is Sarah, who collaborated with me on the image two posts below this one…a shot which I’m as fond of as any image I’ve ever shot. I’m ecstatic that we’re both nailing shots together with ease now. That’s something she understands…

And so the chapter closes…

A good friend of mine has been taking a photography course and visits me whenever a new assignment is due. It’s given me a scheduled time to devote some whimsical energy to random shooting without rhyme or intent…and without a sentient subject, something I’d been speaking of doing more of.

Adding a slight tangent…I had the delectable pleasure of seeing, hearing and speaking with Amanda Palmer this Tuesday when she played at the 9:30 club as part of her Who Killed Amanda Palmer tour. If you have even the smallest bit of emotional, carnal artistry flowing through your veins, acquire this album. That she has been able to acquire names like Ben Folds and Neil Gaiman to collaborate with her on this personal extension should be hint enough. Few artists (musical or otherwise) so unabashedly wear their artistic innards on their sleeve as she.

First, a video link to a video of the opening track on her album: Astronaut: A Short History of Nearly Nothing

And, second, some of the images I’d previously mentioned. I blame (aka thank) Amanda for this feeling that I need to start bleeding onto my art more…

There is a subtle yet important difference between moving away from the shadows and moving towards the light…