Sunday, February 15, 2009

Prattle & hum

It's been a quiet few days here in the KintlaLake household, and likewise on this blog. Life hums steadily in the background while I scan the horizon for what's next.
But besides the lookin' for, well, the findin' is always tame;
And there's nothing drives a gambler like the lovin' of the game.

Events unfold and fade without consequence or need for comment. Financial matters, both national and personal, have yet to be resolved. I'm a patient man.

Diary report: a Valentine's Day dinner yesterday, the Daytona 500 on television this afternoon, and a 17-year-old male preening for a homecoming dance this evening. A viewing of "Righteous Kill" last night reminded me that Robert De Niro and Al Pacino are the high priests of their craft.

Life is at once ordinary and rich. Rewards are wherever I happen to find them. I continue
to cast about.
Still I wouldn't trade my time for a solid diamond claim.
No, I would not trade a fortune for the lovin' of the game.

The photography that I did two weeks ago has rekindled something in me. As I apply myself to re-sharpening my skills and adjusting my eyes, I find myself recalling, strangely enough, the odd assortment of gear that I've used over the years.

First came my dad's Argus C3, a WWII-era rangefinder that I never did understand. Several Kodak Instamatics, suitably childproof, were followed by my first 35mm SLR, a borrowed Pentax KX. Then a Canon AE-1 and an A-1, along with a truckload of lenses, took me through college, helped me earn beer money and served me well during a summer in Montana.

Laziness, plus a simmering annoyance with the complexity of my SLRs, led me to Olympus pocket cameras -- an XA3, the original Infinity Stylus and later a Stylus Zoom. Pleased with autofocus and Zuiko optics but frustrated without control, I picked up an Olympus IS-1, a sleek and sexy Buck Rogers design that gave me more enjoyment than perhaps any other camera I've ever owned.

The siren song of creative expression lured me back into the Canon camp in the form of an EOS Elan and a few zooms. The world has gone madly digital now, of course, and I'm still with Canon -- a pair of point-and-shoots, an SLR and a modest selection of glass.


My journey from a quaint 35mm rangefinder to a whiz-bang digital SLR spans almost 50 years and hundreds of thousands of memorable frames. Almost none of the film cameras remain in my possession today, save the XA3 and the Elan, which our spawns have used in photography classes. It occurs to me that someday my trusty 35mm EOS, now almost 20 years old, will be their Pentax KX.

Ultimately, the hardware is incidental -- the process of learning to see is what's important. Until recently I'd forgotten how therapeutic, how absolutely essential my photographic vision is to my personal vision. It's good to have it back.

Today I'm exploring the world with awakened eyes, seeing more than I have in years.
Where I'm going has no end, what I'm seeking has no name.
No, the treasure's not the takin', it's the lovin' of the game.

Once again I have my sight as well as my voice. Every now and then, maybe I'll add a little music.

(Lyrics from "The Lovin' Of The Game," by Victoria Armstrong & Pat Garvey)