On the importance of sensor cleaning
When I turned on the news this morning, you’d be forgiven for thinking that the world was one again ending. Global markets and house prices were falling faster than a meteor, unemployment and public spending were rising just as quickly in the opposite direction, and clearly it’s the end of civilisation as we know it.
*Sigh*
I packaged up my daughter and drove her to school.
It was an utterly absolutely fabulous morning. Blue skies, crisp autumnal air, falling leaves everywhere. Simply beautiful. Suddenly all the doom and gloom seemed utterly irrelevant. The air seemed crisper, clearer and everything seemed so different. It was like a change in the wind, and I could smell it as tangibly as if it were clearly visible in front of me. It felt like I’d suddenly side-stepped into a parallel universe where everything seemed the same, but I knew it wasn’t. Reality just seemed different (then again, it could be my tumour slooshing around, who knows?)
Of course the bloggie commenters in my last post were right. Photographers are generally wiser than the rest of us. Those who spend a lifetime observing others tend to have better perspective than ordinary mortals. Who needs psychotherapy when you’ve got a camera, huh?
Despite my previous doom-fest about money (which is what I’m trained to do, after all), my non-official opinion is that money is pretty meaningless. Bet you’d never thought you’d hear an accountant say that, eh? But it’s true. To me, money is just another form of energy which flows around in endless circles. The way we choose to make, spend and invest this energy is a direct reflection of who we are and how we think about life.
Most of the folks reading this are photographic creatives in some shape or form: photographers, models, writers, artists, and so forth. This generally means that unless you’re a money-focussed marketing guru like Damien Hirst, you will probably hold the opinion that photography and art largely stand outside the financial and political world. Creativity offers escape from the falling skies by losing the artist in his own imagination, thereby offering the key to a highly effective strategy for coping with the worldly crap going on around us. Spending your energies by practising your art not only affirms who you are as a person and how you want to live your life, but it also offers the best possible therapy for all your woes. With every click of the shutter you give meaning to all this craziness, you rise above the small stuff and affirm belief in the beauty of the world.
(Caution: Dodgy photographic metaphor alert! All sensible, intelligent, sane readers please abandon ship and come back tomorrow.)
When you spend every waking moment immersed in the photographic universe, all your energies are spent crafting the Big Picture, the one lifetime shot that defines you as a person. As with all photographs though, the problem is that the Big Picture often doesn’t turn out as well as the image you originally visualised in your head, perhaps because of lack of knowledge but mostly because of external influences that have compromised your vision.
Recessions, politics and even who wins the next election are all just background noise in your photograph. Noise, dirt and dust are facts of life in photography. They are always there, distorting the overall clarity of the image. How well you minimise those distortions depends on the type and quality of your imaging sensor, as well as how well you keep it clean. Novice photographers are usually nervous about cleaning their camera's sensor. Yet it’s not as hard as you imagine, especially if you have an inbuilt self cleaning sensor unit which does it automatically for you.
Alas I don’t have the ability to self-clean yet, but I’m working on it. In the meantime, I’m focussing on my big picture by spending all my energies as wisely as possible.
(Yeah, I really do write some total tosh you know. It’s a constant wonder to me that anyone reads it. Still, one woman’s lunacy is another man’s wisdom I guess. Or not, as the case may be.)
*Sigh*
I packaged up my daughter and drove her to school.
It was an utterly absolutely fabulous morning. Blue skies, crisp autumnal air, falling leaves everywhere. Simply beautiful. Suddenly all the doom and gloom seemed utterly irrelevant. The air seemed crisper, clearer and everything seemed so different. It was like a change in the wind, and I could smell it as tangibly as if it were clearly visible in front of me. It felt like I’d suddenly side-stepped into a parallel universe where everything seemed the same, but I knew it wasn’t. Reality just seemed different (then again, it could be my tumour slooshing around, who knows?)
Of course the bloggie commenters in my last post were right. Photographers are generally wiser than the rest of us. Those who spend a lifetime observing others tend to have better perspective than ordinary mortals. Who needs psychotherapy when you’ve got a camera, huh?
Despite my previous doom-fest about money (which is what I’m trained to do, after all), my non-official opinion is that money is pretty meaningless. Bet you’d never thought you’d hear an accountant say that, eh? But it’s true. To me, money is just another form of energy which flows around in endless circles. The way we choose to make, spend and invest this energy is a direct reflection of who we are and how we think about life.
Most of the folks reading this are photographic creatives in some shape or form: photographers, models, writers, artists, and so forth. This generally means that unless you’re a money-focussed marketing guru like Damien Hirst, you will probably hold the opinion that photography and art largely stand outside the financial and political world. Creativity offers escape from the falling skies by losing the artist in his own imagination, thereby offering the key to a highly effective strategy for coping with the worldly crap going on around us. Spending your energies by practising your art not only affirms who you are as a person and how you want to live your life, but it also offers the best possible therapy for all your woes. With every click of the shutter you give meaning to all this craziness, you rise above the small stuff and affirm belief in the beauty of the world.
(Caution: Dodgy photographic metaphor alert! All sensible, intelligent, sane readers please abandon ship and come back tomorrow.)
When you spend every waking moment immersed in the photographic universe, all your energies are spent crafting the Big Picture, the one lifetime shot that defines you as a person. As with all photographs though, the problem is that the Big Picture often doesn’t turn out as well as the image you originally visualised in your head, perhaps because of lack of knowledge but mostly because of external influences that have compromised your vision.
Recessions, politics and even who wins the next election are all just background noise in your photograph. Noise, dirt and dust are facts of life in photography. They are always there, distorting the overall clarity of the image. How well you minimise those distortions depends on the type and quality of your imaging sensor, as well as how well you keep it clean. Novice photographers are usually nervous about cleaning their camera's sensor. Yet it’s not as hard as you imagine, especially if you have an inbuilt self cleaning sensor unit which does it automatically for you.
Alas I don’t have the ability to self-clean yet, but I’m working on it. In the meantime, I’m focussing on my big picture by spending all my energies as wisely as possible.
(Yeah, I really do write some total tosh you know. It’s a constant wonder to me that anyone reads it. Still, one woman’s lunacy is another man’s wisdom I guess. Or not, as the case may be.)
Labels: althaia, Philosophy






