The irrational nature of Photographers


So… I recently made the decision to sell my current system. Not because it was failing me or that I wanted some great new function that another system offered, but because I felt like I wasn’t giving enough time to it.

And also because I’d recently picked up an old Hasselblad 500C system with a CFV16 that I wanted to use more. The truth is, the Hasselblad and its lenses  take up a lot of space (and weight). Being an old system, it also takes a lot more time and care. (No autofocus, certainly no image stabilisation system of any sort, and no metering even!)

I took it along on my last holiday and had to admit that I physically can’t carry both with me. It’s just not worth the toil and damage to the body. Not to mention I would never be able to give either system the proper amount of time. So, the only option is to move the current system while it still has some value, and probably pick up a smaller, faster mirrorless system for the images that I won’t be able to capture on the 500C.

Why I’m giving up a modern day system for something that’s more than a decade old isn’t the topic today, but rather the emotions I felt when trying to put together my current system. It’s odd you know.

All sorts of memories come flooding back, of the pictures you got, how you started with the system to begin with, why you’ve stuck with the system so far. It’s almost enough to make you second guess yourself. But ultimately, logic (and finances)  dictate that it’s still just a piece of equipment after all.

A tool that only gives you results that are as good as the effort and vision you put into the use of it. There’s nothing to say you should be married to any particular system. And certainly nothing to say that one system is empirically better than another.

The only thing to be “married” to is your love for creating. Because I really do think it gives you a sense of freedom. To make anything even slightly different requires you to make decisions. To think, to envision, to dream. And that alone makes an otherwise “mundane” world just ever-so-slightly so more interesting.

We haven’t been able to get much going this year, but I do hope to at least churn out a couple of pieces before the year comes to a close. Like Neil Gaiman said: “Do what only you do best. Make good art.”

On the good days and the bad.

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