Thursday, February 22, 2007
But there's something special about standing next to the guardrail with the cars close enough you could reach out and touch them, blasting your left eardrum, and using the camera to shield your face from dirt and rocks. Thankfully I was never injured but part of the thrill as a racing photographer is knowing something could happen at any time. The cardinal rule I learned early on was don't ever turn your back on the cars. Of course this limited view of a very small portion of a race track might not be interesting to some people since sitting in the stands and seeing the whole track is nice for that overview as a spectator. But the only way to get any closer to the action is to sit behind the wheel.
I'll take my spot on the guardrail, thank you very much. The best part now with digital photography is you don't have to wonder if you got the picture or not while waiting for the film to be souped. Thank goodness the technology is so advanced now. Anyone want some old Canon film cameras? They make good doorstops nowadays, and maybe someday they will be museum pieces.
Sunday, February 18, 2007
Watch for him!
Friday, February 16, 2007
It's not really that bad out there. Maybe you feel differently.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
This panel was one of a sequence that I would send out to photog friends. Taming the wild photographer was such a goofy concept that I had to laugh and share it with others. Photography can be a lonely job with lots of pressure, since you either get the shot or you don't, and it's your hands and eyes at work. There's no one else to blame when things go wrong. And they inevitably do go wrong. The motor drive doesn't advance. Somehow the camera settings have been bumped off the optimal and you didn't notice. The camera batteries suddenly just crap out. You see the shot but spectate instead of shooting. You miss the start of the Brickyard. You don't get back to your spot in time and someone hits the wall right in front of you. Your flash charger fries itself. I could go on and on.
But you get the idea. The lessons come in waves and can be painful, just as Dilbert's new photographer colleague discovers in the cube farm world.