Bill. Reading your post I find myself thinking that what you basically are saying, is that you have become a lazy photographer. Lazy photographer as in - "a photographer who shoots wildly, and has stopped reflecting". Am I right about this? If not, please do ignore this friendly intended post.
Between the lines I also read that you blame your new digital tools. If my interpretation of your statements are correct, then let me freely (not to freely I hope) say that you have got it totally wrong. Photography is craftsmanship, and sometimes (a tiny bit of) art. And a craftsman needs to keep his tools sharp. As a photographer, digital or not, you have a set of tools. One of the tools is the camera. The camera is (if it manual), a simple recorder. In other words, it is memory, no more, no less. Whether it is digital or film does not matter. It still is memory. If it's automatic, it is also a meter (like a carpenters meter), and a calculator. Nothing more, nothing less. But the main tool is you, your emotions, and you reflections. And thats the most complicated tool. To me it looks like you have become obsessed with the least important parts of your equipment, the stuff, "your enablement's", your Limited, your LX, your D, your Lditt, your MZdatt. Here let me add one thing. I'm a bit obsessed with the stuff myself now and then. My Ds, my FA*, my Element 3 and so on. But when I find my self spending to much time on them, I don't blame them. I go out and shoot. And I make myself shoot slow. Sometimes I do as Ivan Shukster, shoot with a tripod, forcing myself to shoot slowly, reflecting. With my digital tools, and using my main tool: Me, myself and I. Sharpening myself, hopefully turning me into a better photographer. Back to the carpenter: Imagine him saying "I've given this some thought over the past couple of days, and honestly, I think the Stanley Digital Laser-Meter has, if anything, made me a worse carpenter". What would your reactions be? Do you really think his brand new beeping meter was to blame? Tim Mostly harmless (just plain Norwegian.) Never underestimate the power of stupidity in large crowds (Very freely after Arthur C. Clarke, or some other clever guy) -----Original Message----- From: William Robb [mailto:[EMAIL PROTECTED] Sent: 27. juli 2005 16:40 To: Pentax Discuss Subject: Re: Have digital cameras made us better photographers? I've given this some thought over the past couple of days, and honestly, I think digital has, if anything, made me a worse photographer, rather than a better one. I find myself making a dozen exposures when I only need to make one. I find myself taking pictures of things that are inherently unphotogenic. One of the skills I have spent years developing in myself is an efficiency of process. One thing I really don't like to waste is my time (this mail list is the exception). Digital wastes my time. Too many exposures made, too many exposures to look at to be meaningful anymore. The product of a mind becoming less disciplined, less thoughtful, more willing to take a mad bomber approach to photography. This is a complete change from my work in large format, where every exposure made was at a cost, both in money and time, but also in ability to make another exposure later that session. When one is limited to making no more than a few dozen exposures before taking a time out to reload film holders, which may not be conveniently done, one looks hard before tripping the shutter. When one is putting out a couple of dollars every time he trips the shutter, he thinks a bit about doing it. When every frame has to be put into a tank and processed, one thinks about how much time will be spent doing the mundane task of film processing, and thinks about how many tanks of film are ahead of him. Digital is a tempting little whore, and it is easy to talk oneself into thinking it makes us better by applying outdated criteria to what we are doing, but I have my doubts, based on my own experience, as to whether there is any truth or not to it making us better photographers. It enforces nothing on us, it requires no discipline in approach, and no skill in operation; the two main ingredients in becoming a better photographer are missing. William Robb
