No so long ago, while contemplating a difficult decision, a very good friend told me it was time to, “fish or cut bait.” It was good advice then—and it still is good advice. It’s been a blue week. And as I often do, I break out the Nikon when I need a dose of therapy. For subjects, I pulled out two of my most prized possessions, an antique Pflueger reel made in the 1950s and a truly vintage wooden lure of unknown manufacturer likely made around 1908, both gifts from a friend.
In case you are wondering, this was shot with my Nikon 24 -70mm, f2.8 (1/80 at f5.6) and two flashes, one gridded overhead and the other from beneath with a blue gel.
Outside as I worked, the rain and thunder of an unexpected storm spoke angrily. I turned on my iPod for something to preoccupy my mind. Through the din of random thoughts ricocheting around in my mind, Michael Stipe cut through with a lyric I had never really noticed before. “Where is the ripcord, the trapdoor, the key? Where is the cartoon escape-hatch for me? No time to question the choices I make, I've got to follow another direction. Accelerate.”
In case you are wondering, this was shot with my Nikon 24 -70mm, f2.8 (1/80 at f5.6) and two flashes, one gridded overhead and the other from beneath with a blue gel.
Outside as I worked, the rain and thunder of an unexpected storm spoke angrily. I turned on my iPod for something to preoccupy my mind. Through the din of random thoughts ricocheting around in my mind, Michael Stipe cut through with a lyric I had never really noticed before. “Where is the ripcord, the trapdoor, the key? Where is the cartoon escape-hatch for me? No time to question the choices I make, I've got to follow another direction. Accelerate.”
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