It's October 15th, 2009. Typical autumn night. It's Thursday. Sophie and I have just finished watching an episode of The Sopranos. Lilly is sound asleep (she just got a fresh injection of warm breast milk, so why not? She's 7.5 months old now, just for the record). There is something about autumn. It epitomizes change, growth (or death? Think falling leaves). Regardless. My memory suddenly shifts to year 2000, when my brother and I were watching "2001: A Space Odyssey" in our apartment on 17th Avenue in Brooklyn. The air outside was chilly. Trees swayed and hummed with the autumn wind. I was 19 years-old, and had no worry in the world (let's face it, the dot-com job I had at the time was a total joke. We spent most of our time playing Half-Life with the CEO and in return I received a 35k annual salary). I was focused on my website (vtwa.com, though don't try to access it today, it's something COMPLETELY different). What can I say? I was a virtual pilot. I loved the skies. But all I could afford at the time was a flight sim yoke and access to spare time. Something I had plenty of. My brother on the other hand was a "people" person. Spending almost every night with his buddies, in the local park, doing whatever young people do in parks after dark (I'll leave the rest to your imagination).
So going back to "2001: A Space Odyssey". Only now do I realize what a brilliant piece of movie-making that was. But this isn't about the movie. It's a about the way a certain sound, a feeling, a memory can bring back a surge of experiences from waaaay back. My brother left later that night. He had plans with his friends to egg some homes in the neighborhood. I, on the other hand, was determined to keep my attention on Kubrick's psycho-drama. Babies, floating in space. What could be better? Only your own baby, nine years later.
Sophie is in bed, next to me, writing an e-mail about vaccines (she's a big nay-sayer) to her newly-found girlfriends at a local gymboree. She won't let me read any of it. Not 'till she's finished anyway. Well I'll show her!
So why am I writing this crap? Why now? Why here? To be frank, a part of me feels that some parts of my life go undocumented for too long. And my memory isn't what it used to be (I mean c'mon folks, I'm 28!). This way I can look back at what a looney I used to be (provided they still have internet when I'm 65).
But I said this blog would be about photography, so why drift away from the subject? I'm sending in my, now 2 year-old Nikon D300, for maintenance. It's been such a great camera. Come to think of it, the only reason I upgraded from the D70 was due to the viewfinder. In fact, I can remember going to B&H to buy some sh*t when I came across a D200 on the counter. I had asked the salesperson whether I could hold it, and holy cannoli! The viewfinder alone had me sold. But, you know, I was young and a gadget of such value was but a distant dream.
Well, when they announced the D300 in the summer of 2007 I was determined to make it my new love (well, my second love, since Sophie was now sharing the bed with me, and still does :-).
Hey who said this post was supposed to be about something? Isn't blogging just about yappin'? In that case, I think I've done just fine.
Here is my love, roughly 2 months after we met, goofing around in Central Park (along with her pig tails).
