Welcome.

I still remember the misses. Many have blurred together: the awesome portrait or sports shot lost because my focus was just a bit off, the shutter wasn't fast enough, or the light wasn't right. Some are unique in their circumstance: a sunset-lit flock of Canadian geese on a canvas of dark gray clouds, partially encircled by a brilliant Alaskan rainbow... only recorded in my head, because I consciously decided not to bring my camera that day. Or the time I focused on an old, weathered Turkish man, fishing from rocks using just a filament wrapped on a board, and staring intently into the sea. A wonderful shot - until he looked up at me, and the moment never came back.

With most endeavors, I think, it's easier to remember the mistakes. We often recall the test question we botched, as opposed to the dozens we got right, or the embarrassing moment more vividly than the joyful ones. With photography, though, the opposite can be true - by definition we have evidence of our successes, in an album, perhaps, or hung on the wall or posted on a web site. And save for our fading memories, little to show for our failures, which often remain tucked away on a negative film strip or in the dark recesses of a hard drive.

Capturing the precise moment in time that reveals a personality or communicates a narrative is incredibly satisfying. Whether shooting with an all-manual camera through low-end glass, or with do-it-all digitals, using lenses for which Bridget doesn't want to know the price, that satisfaction is the one constant I have found in almost forty years of photography. While composition, timing, technique, and post-camera work create the art, it begins with preparation for and anticipation of the fleeting instant one releases the shutter. That, in turn, begins with remembering our mistakes.

I bought my first 35mm camera as a freshman at San Bernardino Valley College in California in 1979; an all-manual AT-1 I used for several years. It required the photographer to set the aperture, shutter speed, and film speed, and focus using a split-screen mechanism. I'd recommend everyone shoot manually, at least for a while, at first to understand the reasoning behind the settings, and later because of the measure of control it provides. With the exception of a brief period when I shot Pentax - a K1000, and then a 645 medium format camera - I've always been a Canon guy. Models in my inventory have included Canon Rebel, 20D, 7D, 6D, and 5DS. I've been happy with the brand and, of course, once one invests in the glass, it takes a compelling reason to switch.

Bridget more recently came to enjoy this genre of art. As such, she brings fresh and unique perspectives to our projects. To update the old saw, if it's not broken, go ahead and fix it anyway - sometimes it makes it better. Together with her innate ability to put subjects at ease and get the best from them, her photography shines.

She also is adept at pointing out our miscues, which informs and improves our photography. There's always more to learn, and there's always a good shot out there waiting to be captured.

- Dave

OUR EQUIPMENT

Today, Bridget and I shoot with the 7D and 5DS. We haven't been as brand-loyal when it comes to lenses: along with a couple L-series Canons, we use a sweet Tokina 100mm for macro shots, crystal clear Sigma Art for portraits and urban landscapes, and even a Tamron that works particularly well with the 7D. We've found them to be as good or better than OEM, at a signficantly lower cost.