Given that it's a supremely cloudy day today, I don't think there will be any good Manhattanhenge photos taken. Manhattanhenge is when the sunset aligns with the east-west Manhattan grid. It occurs twice a year during the summer months.
Took me about 4 years to finally get this photo right along with the correct weather, so I'm going to post it for every Manhattanhenge until I get a better one, which I'm not sure I ever will. Especially with the airplane.
1/250th at F2.8, ISO 3200 (28mm).
Any mothers out there feel like this? Any mothers not feel like this?
I found this to be a poignant moment, portraying the the burden on mothers in general. I found it interesting to see how the father and daughter were having such a great time playing together while the mother seemed to be doing all of the heavy lifting. You can even see it on her face.
For the fellow street photographers out there this image is a good representation of how you have to handle yourself to capture some moments. It wasn't just a lucky snap like a few of them are. I came across this family at the top of the stairs and halfway down the corridor, but instead of just taking a quick shot and moving on I decided to jog ahead of them and down the stairs to get into the right position. This way it was easier to get ready and pretend I was just waiting around so that they wouldn't notice me taking the candid shot.
Also, I figured that taking the shot after they carried the stroller down the stairs might be a good idea - and you can see that shown in the mother's face, which is really what ties the entire image together.
NYC headquarters since 1969. On East 3rd street between 1st and 2nd avenue.
You can see the ramps that go to each side door. I have seen the left door open a couple of times, once with a motorcycle in it. It looks like a small motorcycle garage for maintenance.
1/320th at F2.8, ISO 3200 (27mm).
Of any cop positioned in any place in the world, standing looking out at the main connection hub of the Times Square subway station is probably the most important spot.
It's really getting scarier and scarier with people just being glued to their phones all day (of which I am a culprit).
old young friend.
Let me give you all a piece of wisdom that I recently learned the hard way. If you go on a fishing trip called 'Hit em' Hard' and the captain tells you that you should take your bag off and put it in the 'dry container', what he really means by 'dry container' is a place that will fill up with seawater after he accidently clogs the drainage pipe, soaking you and your friends cameras, bags, wallets and cellphones for over an hour in salty seawater.
Better yet, just never go on a fishing charter with a name like 'Hit em' Hard.'
Needless to say, the next step of taking the camera apart was obvious. If you own this camera you know how much it hurt to do. It is a beautiful piece of machinery that I loved dearly. For everyone that talks about the quirks of this camera, they are right, it does have quirks, but it also had insane image quality, all the way up to ISO 3200, it was extremely portable and it was silent. It is the perfect compliment for when you want a light, invisible camera. I loved this camera. I have portfolio pieces shot at ISO 3200, printed large, and they look stunning.
But if you think the X100 is beautiful on the outside, it is breathtaking on the inside.
I have never taken a digital camera apart, and I was never one of those kids who took apart things for fun (although I now know what I was missing), so this was an eye-opening experience. Everything was packed together intricately. No millimeter was left unused. The precision was incredible. You don't create a camera of this image quality at this size by leaving space unused.
The camera is a giant puzzle of miniscule parts. There were hundreds of hidden, miniature screws, rods, tape and dabs of glue holding it together. It was difficult to take apart to the point where it turned into a game. I'd stare at the thing for 10 minutes until I found that one screw hidden behind something that held everything together. It would be absolutely impossible for me to put this thing back together.
So without further ado, the Fuji X100 taken apart in all of its glory.
Screws were hidden everywhere. In total I counted about 130 tiny screws and I probably missed a few.
You can see the salt damage that covered every inch of this camera.
Notice the salt crystals forming on the inside of the lens.
The lens and the viewfinder. My two favorite parts of this camera.
The lens taken apart.
The viewfinder taken apart.
Over 130 screws.
Taken apart (for the most part.) Click to view a larger version of the last photo.
130 screws. 50 pieces of tape. 152 parts (from just what I actually took apart.)
Next step - to create some sort of abstract camera-mutant sculpture out of the parts.