The oldest crit in the west (or, how I re-learned to stop worrying and love the prime lens).

Sunday is becoming adventure day. To quote Harry Dean Stanton, ‘Together they turned everything into a kind of adventure and she liked that. Just an ordinary trip down to the grocery store was full of adventure’, And here, to me, us, c’est le meme. Last Sunday our little Pyrenean day trip was interrupted by a flouro… Continue reading The oldest crit in the west (or, how I re-learned to stop worrying and love the prime lens).

A special little corner of a big dirty wonderful city.

I like London. For me it’s maybe the best thing about the UK. I was born there. Grew up there. Left and went back and worked there. Left again and now, occasionally visit there. When I go back to the UK, it’s always London I fly into. It is not perfect, it has too much… Continue reading A special little corner of a big dirty wonderful city.

Shoots Moots.

Three days living in oxygen sealed trade expo domes done. Point Land Rover toward Alps, press go. Exchange the Truman show for the Sound of Music. Roads narrow, wind and steepen. Vistas get better and better. Each elevation revealing an even better snapshot opportunity. Where is critical mass of a mountain ridge line? Not for another few… Continue reading Shoots Moots.

Moots.

“We’ve got a viewing platform out back, it’s 10ft. You know 10ft is all you need!” There’s an hint of thousand yard stare to this statement of incredulity at my ignorance toward the general height of UFO observation towers, the owner though, not hanging about jumps back into her oversized truck and rumbles off down… Continue reading Moots.