The Humble Nailbanger

I was poking around iSquint and discovered that they “sponsor” a flickr lighting group called “iSquint.net Friday Lighting Porn,” where you can post whatever great lighting project/production you’re working on. There’s some really nice work in there.

So I’ve been “working” for a week or so on a project where I’m photographing myself once a day as I grow a beard from clean-shaven (as I ever get) to what I envision as something Moses would look upon with admiration. Maybe. It’s not a huge thing, I’ve seen a few people do it before – but I figure I really need something to keep me using a camera every day, even if it’s something as mundane as this, or else I won’t.

To that end, I’ve got a small setup in the second bedroom – we’ve been calling it the “studio.” It’s nothing crazy, just the camera on a tripod and a c-stand with some work lights covered with diffusion. But it’s sort of “set up,” in that it’s not moving, and it took me a little while to settle on it. Again, it’s nothing fantastic, just consistent. I thought about marking it on the floor, but then figured it would be alright.

Because it’s the “studio,” it’s got all the stuff in it that we both use to make whatever it is we make. The Mrs has all her paints and pencils and whatnot, as well as her easel, which moves in and out depending on where she wants to paint. It’s also a favorite playground for the cats, who fuck with everything in there, if it suits their mood.

They’d been good lately, and I was thinking it was pretty incredible that nothing had been knocked over…one of the cats has been rubbing on the diffusion on the light closest to the floor, but I’ve got it secured so it doesn’t really go anywhere. Then…

“Honey?”

I knew that tone of voice. It was the “I’ve done something terrible” quiet sort of uh-oh thing. The only problem with the uh-oh thing is that she does it when she spills water as well as when she sets the kitchen on fire…there really isn’t any pattern, and it usually makes me instantly stressed. Stressed because I want to get past the “uh-oh, I’m so sorry” portion of the proceedings and into what I need to do to fix it (or extinguish it. She’s gonna want to kill me for writing this, but it’s hyperbole. Kind of. She’s never actually set anything on fire. More accurately, there’s never been…..big…..flames……).

So when I heard “Honey?” and that tone of voice, I instantly tensed. “I accidentally hit your beard setup.”

Oh christ. That could mean anything. (See what I mean?)

“How bad?”

“Your tripod moved an inch or two. I hit into it with my easel.”

Whew. This was not a big deal. Obviously I didn’t want it to happen, but it wouldn’t have any appreciable effect. Who am I kidding? In all likelihood, even I wouldn’t be able to notice. I’m not shooting the Corpse Bride, or some other stop-motion thing where the camera absolutely, positively CANNOT MOVE. So the thing moved a couple inches….

“That’s sucks, but it’s ok.  No big deal. Really.”

“Really? OK.”

And because I didn’t really give it any further thought, I was surprised that she mentioned it to her father, who is absolutely great. He’s a bit of a Humble Nailbanger himself, except of the crane-operating, bus- and cab-driving variety; a truly great man of simple tastes and with the kind of simple spirit that is indicative of a huge heart and a completely ideal grasp on what’s important. He’s lived a really quiet humble life and seems to have wrung enjoyment out of every moment of it.

Even though I was surprised that the Mrs mentioned it to her father:

“I don’t know why he didn’t put any markers down or anything.”

I can’t say that I was surprised at his answer:

“Ah, forget the markers. Just tell him to shave his beard and start all over again.”

So what? You’ll still grow a beard, just wipe it all out and start over. I swear I’d love to sit down with him for a few months and write a guide to life.

Here’s a photo I made of his hands a few years back:

Much to the chagrin of Mrs Nailbanger, I’ve been bringing old burned-out lamps home for the past year and a half or so. Why? Well, they’re fairly intricate and they tend to burn out pretty spectacularly. I first made some images a while ago, but my camera sensor was full of fun little spots that would’ve taken me hours to Photoshop out. I finally cleaned my sensor, so here’s a few:

      

The rest are here.

So, like almost all photographers who have made the switch to digital, I’ve come to the dreaded realization that the sensors in my cameras need to be cleaned so badly that I really can’t even use them until I’ve accomplished the task. A month or so ago I settled in to start working on a project that requires a clean, white background. I did some testing, fired up the mac to check things out and whammo! Those hated smudges on image after image, in the exact same spot. And as I said, they’re so bad, so numerous, so perfectly spread out across the frame, that I really can’t use the camera until I clean it. Not unless I want to spend hours in Photoshop, anyway. It’s bad enough that I have to give the treatment to all the pictures I made on my last trip to Hawaii….

To that end, after doing a night’s worth of reading, this seems to be the best method to clean your sensor. A bit nerve-wracking, sure, but hey…you’re mucking about in a very expensive piece of equipment with a larger than is possible to be comfortable with chance of ruining the thing. It’s to be expected.

How Adobe’s PhotoShop was born.

Made some big and long-needed changes to the site tonight, seeing as how we’re snowed/iced/whatevered (Accuweather is actually reporting “unknown precip.” And if they don’t know, I certainly won’t claim to.

Anyway, this is a test of a new photo album thingamabob. And yes, I too got caught up in the “smoke” craze. They’re fun shots to make, tho, so stick it.