Cultivator

 

Cultivator Trailer with Water/Pesticide Tank, Yongchon Village

Cultivator in Winter Field, Yongchon Village

I like film. I love the sound my F6 makes when the shutter clicks and the camera whips the film to the next frame. I like the colours and the tones. I like that it doesn't capture a scene as perfectly as digital. (Nothing wrong with digital, of course. It's just a personal preference.)

What I don't like is trying to develop the scans. I think I should look for a course or advice on how to get from bland scan to something I could send off for printing. Or, alternatively, just send the film to the lab and let them print it. I'm sure they can do a much better job than I can.

First Few Frames

I put a roll of Kodak Portra 160 in my Nikon F6 and immediately went to the bathroom to make a camera identification photo. I have two film cameras and sometimes I don't remember what film came out of what camera when I get the rolls back from the lab.

My cat usually appears in the last one or two frames of a roll, but I went straight for him on the morning I put in the film.

What's outside the window?

Nothing. Time to sleep.

Even using negative film, I couldn't get detail in both highlights and shadows. I sacrificed the shadows because dark places in a scene look natural and blown out highlights don't. 

Yongchon Utility Pole

 

Just another picture of a utility pole. A little better composed than usual. 

Bull Statue

 

A nearby plaque says this statue was put here because the bull is a symbol of Sokcho. Apparently, the city borders form the shape of a bull lying on its side. I had a look at an online map and maybe it looks like a bull if you squint really, really, hard. And then close your eyes and imagine it.

I found this composition after walking around the statue a bit and I made a test photo. Not bad. Then this woman walked past and the picture became very good instead of not bad. It was the difference between the photograph being forgotten on my hard drive and going into a portfolio folder.

The 'crack in the jade' is the bright sidewalk light on the right. I darkened it a bit in Lightroom but it's still too bright. I could crop, but then the woman's legs are too close to the edge of the frame. Tempting to use Object Removal in Lightroom but I wouldn't feel right about doing it. 

Gas Pipes

 

Down by the harbour until recently was a seafood restaurant. There were always racks of drying fish all along the street-facing wall. The racks are all gone now, revealing a gas meter and pipes on a plywood wall along with what looks to be a covered electrical outlet.

The owner of the restaurant was a very old lady, so I hope that she is retired and resting.  

Yongchon

Riding bicycle into the winter countryside seemed like a good way to complement my ragged feelings.

I didn't want to see people, especially after several walks through overcrowded downtown Sokcho during the Christmas and New Year holidays.

I liked seeing the signs of people without having to see anyone. It felt as though humanity had disappeared and peace returned.

The whole agricultural area was quiet. Even the cattle in their sheds were making no sounds.

Despite the cold, winter may be my favourite time to be out and about. Others are herding together in coffee shops and living rooms while I can enjoy isolation outside with no need to hide away in my room.

Daily Writing

My wife writes a post on her Korean blog daily. She's read advice from successful blog writers who say you should write something every day when you start out, even if the quality is not good. The posts get better and better through practice as time goes on and after a few years you are a successful blogger. 

Sounds great in theory, and maybe I should try that as well. But a couple of things make me wary of trying.

First, I don't really want to publish what I know to be bad writing. I'm the same with photography. I edit, edit, edit before selecting a few photos to share. I think the solution to that worry is to write a blog post every day and leave most of them in draft mode to be deleted later if necessary. Or just write in my journal and choose some good entries to share on the blog.

Secondly, I worry that I have nothing to say. I'm not profound. I'm not even that interesting. I worry sometimes that I'm just . . . blank.

If I want to be a writer, then I think I will have to make an effort to write often. Anything. And share perhaps a tenth of what I write. Well, we'll see. Or not.