BoboftheGlen
How Not To Take A Photae
You've probably seen those programs about the making of such and such a film (probably switched it straight off too, if you've a wee drop brains)
Well, does Bob have a treat in store for YOU? That was a rhetorical question.
This is the story of how a photae was taken, with step by step instructions, which if followed closely would result in the reader taking a similar photae (now whether that is a sensible thing to do is not the point of this excercise)
1. Take the train. This is an important step, as we shall see later. Do not hide in the toilet of the train - oh no, buy a return ticket.
2. Take a lightweight tripod by a reputable manufacturer. (made in China is bad - made in Italy is good) We will be going on a decent hike, hence the lightweight.
3. Be sure to take a camera and all necessary bits and bobs. This is vital......or is it crucial? Whatever is most important between vital and crucial, then it's that one.
4. Choose your destination. I chose a loch around three miles from the nearest railroad station (you're thanking me for step 2 already)
5. On arrival at your predetermined spot, unload all the stuff in your bag, find a wee seat for five minutes and have a cigarette. This will help stem the craving for nicotine during the next fifteen minutes.
6. Attach all gadgets, gizmos, filters and remotes. If, like myself, you intend attaching a 10 stop filter, then do so with all haste.
As you will barely be able to see anything except the sun through the viewfinder, the feeling of joy will be increased if your final product emerges anywhere north of rubbish.
There are several workarounds which will allow you to compose the shot properly, however, these are boring, spoil the fun and should only be used by serious photographers
6 (a) This is where paying your train fare is about to pay handsome dividends. Take the ticket for the outward journey. OUTWARD JOURNEY. There, don't blame me if you have to walk it home. Now, carefully tear the ticket, leaving a small amount of white either side of the black strip on the back. Ideally this strip should be three eighths of the way down the length of the ticket.
Your ticket will now fit snugly into the hotshoe (see above). All that remains is for you to fold the ticket in order that the expired railroad pass covers the viewfinder - this will eliminate light leakage in long exposures.
7. Take your photograph in the normal way.
8. Your first thoughts on viewing the resultant photae on the camera screen will, most likely, be "Aye, no bad at aw"
9. If number 8 is true, you have given yourself false hope. On returning home you will excitedly fire up the computer, hurriedly transfer your masterpieces and view them at a larger size than the camera screen can show them.
10. If your first word is anything other than "Ach" (or a swearword) then you've got a result.
If your first word is indeed "Ach" (or a swearword) you may now proceed to process the photae - chop, crop, resize, sharpen or any other combination of edits - you are wasting your time - there is nothing you can do to salvage the situation.
You have wasted a day. You have travelled by train when you could have driven. You have used a wee rubbishy tripod when yon big sturdy one would have got the job done. You have trudged through swamp, mud, bog and marsh when you could have used the path. You are chucking it - never taking another photae as long as ye live - until ye wake up the next day and go through it again.
Serves ye right.
Welcome to the world of Bob
How Not To Take A Photae
You've probably seen those programs about the making of such and such a film (probably switched it straight off too, if you've a wee drop brains)
Well, does Bob have a treat in store for YOU? That was a rhetorical question.
This is the story of how a photae was taken, with step by step instructions, which if followed closely would result in the reader taking a similar photae (now whether that is a sensible thing to do is not the point of this excercise)
1. Take the train. This is an important step, as we shall see later. Do not hide in the toilet of the train - oh no, buy a return ticket.
2. Take a lightweight tripod by a reputable manufacturer. (made in China is bad - made in Italy is good) We will be going on a decent hike, hence the lightweight.
3. Be sure to take a camera and all necessary bits and bobs. This is vital......or is it crucial? Whatever is most important between vital and crucial, then it's that one.
4. Choose your destination. I chose a loch around three miles from the nearest railroad station (you're thanking me for step 2 already)
5. On arrival at your predetermined spot, unload all the stuff in your bag, find a wee seat for five minutes and have a cigarette. This will help stem the craving for nicotine during the next fifteen minutes.
6. Attach all gadgets, gizmos, filters and remotes. If, like myself, you intend attaching a 10 stop filter, then do so with all haste.
As you will barely be able to see anything except the sun through the viewfinder, the feeling of joy will be increased if your final product emerges anywhere north of rubbish.
There are several workarounds which will allow you to compose the shot properly, however, these are boring, spoil the fun and should only be used by serious photographers
6 (a) This is where paying your train fare is about to pay handsome dividends. Take the ticket for the outward journey. OUTWARD JOURNEY. There, don't blame me if you have to walk it home. Now, carefully tear the ticket, leaving a small amount of white either side of the black strip on the back. Ideally this strip should be three eighths of the way down the length of the ticket.
Your ticket will now fit snugly into the hotshoe (see above). All that remains is for you to fold the ticket in order that the expired railroad pass covers the viewfinder - this will eliminate light leakage in long exposures.
7. Take your photograph in the normal way.
8. Your first thoughts on viewing the resultant photae on the camera screen will, most likely, be "Aye, no bad at aw"
9. If number 8 is true, you have given yourself false hope. On returning home you will excitedly fire up the computer, hurriedly transfer your masterpieces and view them at a larger size than the camera screen can show them.
10. If your first word is anything other than "Ach" (or a swearword) then you've got a result.
If your first word is indeed "Ach" (or a swearword) you may now proceed to process the photae - chop, crop, resize, sharpen or any other combination of edits - you are wasting your time - there is nothing you can do to salvage the situation.
You have wasted a day. You have travelled by train when you could have driven. You have used a wee rubbishy tripod when yon big sturdy one would have got the job done. You have trudged through swamp, mud, bog and marsh when you could have used the path. You are chucking it - never taking another photae as long as ye live - until ye wake up the next day and go through it again.
Serves ye right.
Welcome to the world of Bob