Personal photography
Over the years, I have developed what I call my photographic style. It doesn’t mean my photos are good, just that I found what pleases me and what works for me. And that’s what I do. I don’t do this professionally, not even creatively, so I don’t feel the pressure to be different.
In 2006, I got curious about infrared photography. It’s not something many people were doing, especially digitally, but I liked the idea. I had seen film infrared images and wondered what it could give with a digital camera.
The difficulty was that all sensors have anti-infrared filters that made the cameras essentially blind to it (because portraits look weird and fuzzy in infrared, and it can bring blochiness to the skin). To take photos, you needed a filter (e.g. R72), and very long exposures to compensate for the internal filter. With a Canon 350D, that made the operation fairly difficult (hello banding!).
Since then, I’ve acquired a modified Canon 1200D without the infrared filter that makes it possible to do handheld IR photos.
It was another sunny day on Saturday, so instead of walking indoors, I went for a walk around our village
Admit it: you can’t always be great. Despite what “influencers” want you to believe, not everything in life is perfect, and certainly not from the get go.
I took this photo yesterday morning, a few minutes before the partial solar eclipse started (only a few percents here). I wanted the plant to frame the sun as if it was coming out of its vegetal cocoon.
I often see people looking at photographs and talking about their composition, colours, and message like they’re paintings. It seems expected that great photos have been thought through, planned, and perfectly executed, as if made in a studio. But does it make sense?
I really like Substack and the people I’ve interacted with on it so far. But I’ll be a bit controversial. Because sometimes you need to look at the less bright side of life to know where things really stand. I’m feeling frustrated with some of the trends I see on Substack: if you’re on Substack but you only have a paid subscription, you’re there to make money. Not to write. Not to share. Not for readers. For money.
These anchors are used to attach fishing nets that are thrown into the sea at high tide.
A couple is walking on the beach. It was a windy day.
Last weekend, I picked up one of our cars that had been slightly modified. I decided I wanted to take photos of it for fun, and they turned out quite fun to make and interesting.
