-
Sowing the Seed
Photography captures more than just images; it encapsulates moments of raw emotion, unveiling stories through the interplay of light, and time. The act of clicking the shutter is an affirmation of the photographer’s intent, a definitive selection of a single frame from the boundless flow of life.
Consider the potent significance of that solitary click—the pivotal heartbeat wherein the photographer and the captured moment converge in a silent conversation. “This one photo speaks volumes,” the artist muses; it’s an acknowledgment that the photo holds an essence that transcends the visual, striking a chord that resonates with the viewer’s innermost sentiments.
In this silent exchange between the observer and the observed, the photograph becomes a linguistic artifact. Its voice may whisper or shout, but the volume it speaks with is not one measured in decibels, but in affect..
As the image is revealed, developed, and shared, it begins a journey of interpretation and inspiration. Each viewer, drawn into the frame, becomes part of the unfolding narrative, extending the heartbeat of the captured moment to echo endlessly through the halls of human experience.
As I strolled through the quaint streets of the small town I’ve come to know as home, nestled in the Upstate of South Carolina, my gaze was drawn to a particular structure that stood as a testament to the past. It was an aging old bank that seemed to wear its history on its facade. The building was unmistakably a product of the 60’s architecture, characterized by its angular brick design. Such structures are commonplace in this part of town, each telling a story of the era they were erected in.
Despite its clear ongoing renovation, the exterior gave away the years of neglect. The reddish-brown bricks, once probably lively and inviting, were now dulled with a patina of decay—crumbling pointing between them told tales of the many years they had weathered. The signs of pollution had left their marks, etched into the surface in grime and soot. Acid rain had washed over the walls for decades, nibbling away at the solidity of the mortar, and with each passing year, the relentless tide of time had carved its impressions deeper into the once-pristine brickwork.
As I continued my walk, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of nostalgia mixed with a hopeful curiosity for the building’s future. The old bank, once a bustling hub of commerce, now stood quietly amidst more modern establishments, a relic of a bygone era awaiting its rebirth. It served as a stark reminder of the impermanence of man’s creations, standing defiantly against the inescapable march of time, awaiting the day it would once again stand proud and renewed, its decayed exterior merely a chapter of its enduring story. It reminded me that in every end, there’s the whisper of a new beginning, and I was witnessing a small piece of this town’s continual evolution.
As I neared the old, weathered wall that had always been a part of my daily route, something unusual caught my eye. It was a solitary weed, displaying a resilience that was both unexpected and beautiful, blooming with a delicate flower in the midst of the unforgiving brickwork. Its struggle for life against the rigid urban canvas captivated me.
Quickly, I reached for my beloved Pentax K1000, a camera that had become an extension of my own being. Equipped with my preferred Zenit Helios 44K-4 lens – a piece of glass famous for its swirly bokeh and the soulful images it produces – I framed the shot with a mindful respect for the weed’s tenacity. The viewfinder gave me connection between subject and artist as I adjusted the focus ring, the tactile sensation reminding me why I fell in love with photography in the first place.
With a click, the shutter closed for a fraction of a second, capturing not just an image but encapsulating a story of survival and beauty in adversity. I stood there for a moment, basking in the satisfaction that comes from knowing when you’ve caught a magic moment on film. This photograph, I sensed, would be a cherished addition to my personal collection, a reminder that even in the most unexpected places, there’s always something extraordinary to be discovered. I knew in that instant that I had something that I, at the very least, would love.
Even amongst the grot and grim of this old decrepit bank, new life emerges. God is everywhere and in everything we see. He is the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. This weed withered away, but for a short time it bloomed. Jesus’ parable about the sower and the seed is one of my favorites and I thought of it instantly, as I took this photograph. God speaks, if we listen.
Mark 4; 3-93 “Listen! Behold, a sower went out to sow. 4 And as he sowed, some seed fell along the path, and the birds came and devoured it. 5 Other seed fell on rocky ground, where it did not have much soil, and immediately it sprang up, since it had no depth of soil. 6 And zwhen the sun rose, it was scorched, and since it had no root, ait withered away. 7 Other seed fell among bthorns, and the thorns grew up and choked it, and it yielded no grain. 8 And other seeds fell into good soil and produced grain, growing up and increasing and yielding thirtyfold and sixtyfold and ca hundredfold.” 9 And he said, d“He who has ears to hear, let him hear.”
-
Yashica Electro 35 GSN
For years, I have heard praises about the Yashica Electro 35! People have raved about its build quality and lens performance. About two months ago, my wife and I were speaking with a local estate agent about cameras. In the back room, he had two old cameras. He handed me two dusty camera cases with “Yashica” engraved on them. The first one was a Yashica EZ-Matic 126 Film Camera. While it was a good little camera, it wasn’t exactly what I had hoped for. However, the second case held the infamous and highly desirable Electro 35 GSN! Needless to say, I was ecstatic!
I brought them home, cleaned them up, and loaded a roll of Arista Edu Ultra 100 film into one of them along with fresh batteries. It took me a couple of weeks to thoroughly test it out. Every photograph came out perfectly exposed and tack sharp. The viewfinder was also very bright and clear. I have absolutely no complaints about this camera. It’s versatile enough for street photography or capturing those spontaneous family moments.
I enjoyed my time with this camera, but rangefinder shooting isn’t my preferred style. I already have another rangefinder camera, a Zeiss Ikon, which I will keep. However, this Yashica Electro 35 GSN is up for sale. It delivers sharp images and consistently accurate exposures. It even comes with the original lens cap and case! Take a look at some of the photographs I captured with it below.
Let me know if you need more information or if there’s anything else I can assist you with.
You May Also Like
Zeiss Ikon Contessa 35
-
Zeiss Ikon Contessa 35
After World War II, Hubert Nerwin of Zeiss Ikon in West Germany created a line of folding cameras to help rebuild the company after the war. He relocated to the United States in 1948 through the government program Operation Paperclip, according to sources. Project Paperclip was an interesting program, but that’s a topic for another post.
The 533/24, Contessa 24, is futuristic in its design and function. It’s a true conversation starter. I recently took it out for a film test to write this article and was bombarded with questions about it. People asked me what type of camera it was. One person even thought it was some kind of Geiger counter. Considering its background, that’s not too far off.
As cool and unique as it is, the camera is not the easiest to use. As is expected with folding cameras, you have to cock the shutter on the lens. There’s no way to do that on the camera body. Personally, I’m used to shooting with folding medium format cameras, so this wasn’t a deal-breaker for me. However, for most people, the placement of the shutter button right above the lens will be a challenge. I tried reading the manual again to hold the camera as depicted, but it still feels awkward.
Depressing the shutter button can be difficult, resulting in some blurring at slower shutter speeds. Anything under 1/100th of a second tends to be blurred. The only way to alleviate this is to mount the camera on a tripod and use a remote release. It’s an amazing camera that looks magnificent from afar or up close and it’s definitely interesting to carry around.
I’ve owned this camera for a year and a half and have only used it two or three times during that period. Normally, I rotate my cameras and they get more use, but due to the awkward shutter button, this one has been neglected. It’s a shining example of engineering from the early 50s, although perhaps a bit over-engineered. The lens is incredibly sharp and the shutter never misses a beat or feels sluggish. It’s absolutely superb.
I am selling my early model 533/24 on Ebay. The price is right!
-
Minolta SR-7 Review
This beautiful camera was thrust onto the world stage in 1962, the decade of space exploration and scientific briefs that would set the world on fire. This beaut set the world on fire in its own way, it was the first 35mm SLR camera to have a built in Cds light meter. Up until this point, light meters were a required accessory to ensure the photographer was getting the best exposure for a scene or portrait. Light meters were in abundance. You could pick one up, along with your film, at your local pharmacist.
The Minolta SR-7, the Pentax Spotmatic, and Canon and Nikon variants killed the light meter for the mass market. Sekonic was the only real contender that survived, though that is a debatable subject. They are still highly sought after for professional photographs like myself and amateurs.
When this beautiful Minolta came into my possession, it was dirty, grimy, and not working. I cleaned the camera exterior, interior dried up grease, and cleaned the battery contacts. That is all it took to get it working again. After about thirty minutes of fiddling, I was ready to take it out for a test run.
The Minolta 58mm Rokkor-PF f/1.4 lens came on the camera. That was my main reason for purchasing it. It is such a sharp lens at f/1.4. It competes with new lenses. It may not have the anti flare coatings, but it is probably sharper due to not having all of those extra coatings that we may not need all the time. There is a gallery below with photographs from that first test roll of kentmere 100.
I took it downtown Easley near where I live. It is a different experience, looking down at the exposure meter before doing a final composition check and taking the shot. It slowed me down and made me think before taking the shot. It was enjoyable and everyone that passed me, enquired as to what kind of camera it is. It looks a bit alien, as it should being from the early 60’s. I thoroughly enjoyed shooting with this camera! If you have the time to go out and shoot, trying new angles and perspectives, pick up one of these on ebay or etsy and give it a try. You will not regret it, I haven’t. After all, it is historically important and should be appreciated and used.
You May Also Like
Zeiss Ikon Contessa 35
