I posted the following on Facebook and Instagram last night:
“It’s time.
I set the groundwork for a new portrait photography business last December, and I’ve sat on it since then for a variety of reasons.
I’ve missed being out with my camera.
So, it’s time.
Sessions with me will be slow. I’m working in monochrome for now. I’ll be limiting the number of sessions I accept, and I promise you’ll love the results.
Just me, my camera, a single lens, lots of fun, and beautiful portraits as the result.
Custom sessions beginning at $50. Reach out today to schedule your session.
Hi World. This is Caroline Price Luxe.”
I’m looking forward to being out with clients again.
For Christmas, Jared gave me some spending money, with the only condition that I buy things that would bring me joy.
One of the thing I bought was the Schneider-Kreuznach Min/Mag pictured here. I bought it thinking it would adapt to either my Cinelux 85mm or my Cinelux 37.5mm, both ways, making it a useful tool.
And when it arrived, I was crestfallen to realize that the 85mm filter threads were dented.
But, not to be deterred, I ordered a Neewer lens vise. So when the lens vise arrived, I went at it, determined to be able to screw on the Min/Mag.
And, I got the lens filters successfully re-shaped, and went at screwing on the Min/Mag on the Mag side.
There were tears. I was soooooo upset. There were more tears. There was anger, because then I saw that Jared had the 85mm lens itself taken apart.
Turns out, the dented part was a lens hood for the 85mm, with the logo on it. a lens hood that is every bit the material of the rest of the structure of the lens barrel, meaning there is no cutting it off the Min/Mag.
And then, Christmas faded, and the Min/Mag with its problems, resigned, went into the dehumidifier cabinet.
And then comes this past week, with the job falling through, and I resorted to what I always want to do when these things happen: I started daydreaming about camera and lens gear.
But today, I had a renewed resolve. The Min/Mag went into the freezer for 30 minute with a dehumidifier pack, in two baggies.
No dice– that lens hood is not coming off.
But then, I remembered the screw. And I wondered: what would it look like if I used the glass from the Min side on the lenses?
The Min side has its own version of a lens hood, since the glass is on the lens side of the barrel.
The Super Cinelux 37.5mm is a no-go. Doesn’t work– has enough vignetting from the barrel that it isn’t worth the wide angle.
The 85mm though? I gasped when I saw what it could do:
The Min on the 85mm acts as a focal reducer and slight wide-angle teleconverter, giving me absolutely 99% of what the 85mm could do on the GFX 50sII. It gives me back the 60-70mm perspective that the 85mm had on the GFX.
Would I like the Min/Mag to be completely functional? Of course. I was convinced that it was the Mag side that I would want the most.
But I am thrilled to have stumbled on this serendipitous turn of gear events.
It feels like Christmas all over again today, and literally all it cost me was going out to the garage to get one of Jared’s electronics screwdrivers.
The setup looks ridiculous, admittedly, for a 60-70mm equivalent setup on the X-S20, but I care not. one. bit:
So super excited. I’d given up working with the Cinelux line since Christmas in the fallout of all this, along with the sale of the GFX itself, but now I am thrilled I can have 99% of the GFX look with not spending another single dime on gear.
Last week I got the M65 to FX adapter I needed to be able to adapt the Cinelux lenses to my Fujifilm X-S20. And the 37.5mm focuses like a dream now that I have the proper adapter.
And, I played around some more with my Minolta lenses.
And I got to thinking that I really missed that beautiful XF 50mm f1 lens I sold a little over 4 years ago to be able to afford the GFX 50S II camera to begin with.
And common sense began to really get the better of me in knowing that really it’s going to be quite some time before I can really afford to buy the XF 70-300mm lens that I really wanted to be able to do bird and other wildlife photography with the X-S20.
And since I could still make yummy portraits with the Cinelux lenses (that arguably have a better look), and since I could do 99% of the things I wanted with the X-S20, I started to question the wisdom of hanging onto the GFX camera knowing it had served faithfully for 4 years but was a heavy camera.
And, I did some heavy comparison shots with both the Cinelux and the Minolta lenses.
Turns out, if I up the denoise tool and the clarity and the sharpness and the shadows in Lightroom, there’s an awful lot of questions about which lens shot what with what camera.
And so, the GFX went to KEH yesterday, and I came home with the XF 50mm f1, the 70-300mm that I wanted, and a little extra grocery money for the month.
The cat in the photo above is not our cat. This is a cat that belongs to some random unknown neighbor, a cat that has claimed our yard as its own when our dogs are not out in the yard to terrorize it. It’s outside in our yard a lot when I go out there or when I’m backing the car out of the driveway. Today it got to be a test subject since I couldn’t quickly spot any birds before the rain started.
And, I won’t lie: I will miss the medium format camera. And I won’t lie even more because it’s true that I will miss the self-imposed “status” that came along with shooting medium format even if it was a status that only I recognized. APS-C just doesn’t have the same ring.
But when 99% of the look I love is achievable with the camera that is more fun to shoot with…..there’s an awful lot to be said about that. Especially when it is far easier to achieve focus, especially when the focus is faster on the autofocus lenses, especially when the whole setup is smaller and lighter, and especially since I can dictate the direction of whatever business I may or may not have.
And probably most importantly, especially when the itch to upgrade happens and it won’t cost another $4,000 or more to do so next time.
So, that’s been much of the labor of this week. Reining in is not easy, but sometimes it is necessary. I have been in a realism and a “buy it once” sort of mindset since Christmas, and it was time to realize that the tools I had in my photography arsenal were not exactly serving me as best they could.
Besides, that yummy jute purse I made and carry around is an awful lot lighter when it’s carrying around X Series gear than it was with the GFX stuff. And it’s a heavy purse to begin with.
I re-learned today that my brain is double-sided in both pain and beauty, that I can trust the decisions I make regarding my photography, that I made the right decision in selling the gear I sold in June, that I kept the lens I love the most. That my current gear matches the way that I see the world and that I like it that way. That my eyes see beautiful things and that the grief and pain that is inevitable in my daily life is indeed not the full story.
I learned that nature photography is beautiful with a normal-telephoto lens, that time with my husband is sacred, that I married the wisest person I’ve ever met in my whole life.
I came home a little more sure of myself, a lot steadier on my feet, and remembering that there is good with the bad.
It’s 1:07 PM and Jared and I are just getting breakfast. This morning was rough. It is the kind of morning where I move slow and everything hurts and I am not steady on my feet and I fall into Jared when he hugs me in the kitchen.
I’ve resisted writing for a long time recently. I don’t just sit to write. I don’t journal; I rarely do my gratitude list and when I do it feels like platitudes, not the real thing.
I didn’t sleep well last night; I woke up three times.
Since the whole “analytics ate the timestamp on one of my first emails to Jared” night a couple of weeks ago, Jared has slept in the living room.
I knew it was different that night because when he went to the living room, he packed up his CPAP and took it with him. That has been a months-long fight: he goes to the living room to sleep because I am scared for whatever reason, but he will absolutely NOT take his CPAP with him.
Except, now he does. Every night.
And generally, I do sleep better when he’s out here (where I am now writing). Knowing he is the first line of defense in case the random things-I-think-are-going-to-get-in-the-house-but-never-do really does make a difference.
One night in the last couple of weeks I woke up at 4:02 AM. I was sure I’d heard a knock on our bedroom door. I called out my reflex “JARED!” as I always do immediately upon waking when it’s his cue to go investigate the mystery noises that are never there. Jared was already out in the living room. That noise had been so real though.
“I hate my life.”
In those moments there, lying on my side under at least five blankets which include at least a comforter and two heavy fleece-type blankets, it hardly seems worth being grateful.
Facebook does not help.
This morning’s memories included the lovely photo walk Jared and I went on at Hobbs Farm exactly a year ago today. The featured photo is a photo I took on that walk. I thought I’d like to go on another photo walk today…except I sold the 100-200mm lens I used in that walk last year. None of my current lenses are ideal for wildlife photography.
“I wish I’d never gotten into photography,” I wailed at Jared at some point this morning.
I don’t always see the bits I wouldn’t have otherwise seen if I look back at my photos later.
The blog gets random weird bot analytics.
The boys are grown and prefer the company of themselves in their own rooms over spending time out in the main areas of the house.
I feel aimless, unanchored.
And always, always, always…I lament not having a job, not having the prestige of a career, not having substantive income of my own both so that I can help support us and also so I could buy the things I want without guilt.
People I know are not always helpful; just yesterday my own mother said, “Caroline, you should just make yourself do it,” when I was lamenting the state of our dirty house that I am unable to keep up with.
As if it were that easy, proving my family has zero clue as I’ve always known.
I am up now. I have had breakfast, or lunch or snack, or whatever: a protein bar, a tiny cup of walnuts, a very small section of brie, and six fruity jellies from Trader Joe’s.
I won’t allow myself my coffee until I’ve had the entirety of my full water bottle first.
And later, it won’t be so bad. My legs won’t feel shaky when I walk.
Jared says the PTSD is like this. I never remember.
I won’t feel as though I will wilt. I will get a shower for the first time in two days.
But for now, I write, because that’s one of the few things I can do in moments like this.
Sometimes, that’s how I wake up.
It’s 1:07 PM and Jared and I are just getting breakfast. This morning was rough. It is the kind of morning where I move slow and everything hurts and I am not steady on my feet and I fall into Jared when he hugs me in the kitchen.
I’ve resisted writing for a long time recently. I don’t just sit to write. I don’t journal; I rarely do my gratitude list and when I do it feels like platitudes, not the real thing.
I didn’t sleep well last night; I woke up three times.
Since the whole “analytics ate the timestamp on one of my first emails to Jared” night a couple of weeks ago, Jared has slept in the living room.
I knew it was different that night because when he went to the living room, he packed up his CPAP and took it with him. That has been a months-long fight: he goes to the living room to sleep because I am scared for whatever reason, but he will absolutely NOT take his CPAP with him.
Except, now he does. Every night.
And generally, I do sleep better when he’s out here (where I am now writing). Knowing he is the first line of defense in case the random things-I-think-are-going-to-get-in-the-house-but-never-do really does make a difference.
One night in the last couple of weeks I woke up at 4:02 AM. I was sure I’d heard a knock on our bedroom door. I called out my reflex “JARED!” as I always do immediately upon waking when it’s his cue to go investigate the mystery noises that are never there. Jared was already out in the living room. That noise had been so real though.
“I hate my life.”
In those moments there, lying on my side under at least five blankets which include at least a comforter and two heavy fleece-type blankets, it hardly seems worth being grateful.
Facebook does not help.
This morning’s memories included the lovely photo walk Jared and I went on at Hobbs Farm exactly a year ago today. The featured photo is a photo I took on that walk. I thought I’d like to go on another photo walk today…except I sold the 100-200mm lens I used in that walk last year. None of my current lenses are ideal for wildlife photography.
“I wish I’d never gotten into photography,” I wailed at Jared at some point this morning.
I don’t always see the bits I wouldn’t have otherwise seen if I look back at my photos later.
The blog gets random weird bot analytics.
The boys are grown and prefer the company of themselves in their own rooms over spending time out in the main areas of the house.
I feel aimless, unanchored.
And always, always, always…I lament not having a job, not having the prestige of a career, not having substantive income of my own both so that I can help support us and also so I could buy the things I want without guilt.
People I know are not always helpful; just yesterday my own mother said, “Caroline, you should just make yourself do it,” when I was lamenting the state of our dirty house that I am unable to keep up with.
As if it were that easy, proving my family has zero clue as I’ve always known.
I am up now. I have had breakfast, or lunch or snack, or whatever: a protein bar, a tiny cup of walnuts, a very small section of brie, and six fruity jellies from Trader Joe’s.
I won’t allow myself my coffee until I’ve had the entirety of my full water bottle first.
And later, it won’t be so bad. My legs won’t feel shaky when I walk.
Jared says the PTSD is like this. I never remember.
I won’t feel as though I will wilt. I will get a shower for the first time in two days.
But for now, I write, because that’s one of the few things I can do in moments like this.
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