more px100 images

I managed to hold off for a few weeks (thanks to my visit to Austin) before ordering more of the Impossible Project's px100 film. The shipping charge is $11.00 regardless if you order 1 or more packs. This time, I ordered 4 packs. I suspect I'm at the tipping point before shipping charges go up to the next increment. I feel somewhat stupid in retrospect for ordering only two packs the first go around. Live and learn.



I wanted to share the latest images with all of you. I'm having a lot of fun (albeit cautious fun, since the film is so expensive) experimenting. It HAS rekindled my creativity somewhat, reminding me of the nourishment such activities bring to my soul. I have of late become a grumpy old man. Perhaps this will help stave off the grumpiness for a while.

travelin' man . . .

Two weeks ago I had the opportunity to explore Austin, Texas for just over a week. Joni's conferences for work have afforded us many opportunities to visit locales in the United States that we would otherwise not even consider. I'm beginning to feel well-traveled and can often identify cities in the opening scenes of movies because of the privilege of having been to so many places (relatively).

Joni began the tradition of extensively researching the locales we visit, utilizing at least three travel guides (typically, Fodor's, Frommer's, and Mobil or Moon) as well as the internet. She would create itineraries that would make the most experienced travel agent weep. Her itineraries would be based upon those sites deemed most noteworthy by at least two of the three guides and would include a timetable that took into account the proximity of the desired destinations. In other words, she would map out the locations to efficiently minimize travel time each day. In some of the bigger cities, the itinerary would include parking garages and prior to the purchase of our portable GPS, she would have mapquest printouts attached. Since work has proven to be increasingly demanding for her, I have taken over the planning responsibilities of our trips. Thus far, I have successfully matched her itinerary planning skills to a level that has not drawn any criticism (and sometimes even appreciative praise).

My priorities always gravitate towards the best places to eat in each city. I'm sort of a foodie. Although Joni's itinerary always included the best restaurants, I'm not sure that she BEGAN her planning with the restaurants. This is always where I begin. Plan on where to eat. Everything else is secondary. Some places are so highly recommended and popular, it is important to make reservations as far in advance as possible. As an example, on our last visit to San Francisco, one restaurant, Gary Danko's is such a hotspot that it is recommended you make reservations three months in advance. Needless to say, we missed the opportunity to go there, although we did have a callback from them after being wait-listed. Sadly, the opening was at 10:00 PM one evening, a little late for even us. We're heading back there next year, so you can be sure I'll be calling them three months in advance. Incidentally, Open Table is the way to go to book reservations, even locally. We've had amazing meals throughout the years. If you're really into food, I recommend Portland, Maine as THE spot for the greatest concentration of absolutely amazing restaurants. The NY Times and the now defunct Gourmet Magazine also concur, so you don't have to take my word for it. But as always, I digress . . .

One of THE must see tourist attractions in Austin is the Congress Avenue Bridge bats. The Congress Avenue Bridge spans Town Lake in downtown Austin and is home to the largest urban bat colony in North America. The colony is estimated at 1.5 million Mexican free-tail bats. Each night from mid-March to November, the bats emerge from under the bridge at dusk to blanket the sky as they head out to forage for food. This event has become one of the most spectacular and unusual tourist attractions in Texas. The most spectacular bat flights are during hot, dry August nights, when multiple columns of bats emerge.


Naturally, we positioned ourselves for this event on the first day we were in Austin. Some of my most spiritual and moving experiences in life have involved encounters with nature, specifically some of the wonderful creatures that populate our planet. I've chased whales in a zephyr in the waters of Alaska, been swimming with a sea turtle in Hawaii, kayaked past alligators in the Florida Everglades, etc. There is something to be said for encountering creatures unexpectedly in their natural habitat that still elicits a sense of wonder in me that I once thought was reserved exclusively for my childhood. You can imagine my sense of anticipation and excitement at the prospect of witnessing the nightly flight of 1.5 million bats at dusk.

The day we were there the crowd lined the Congress Street bridge. Prime viewing space was difficult to come by, but we managed to position ourselves so that we could see the bats emerge. Several boats loaded with tourists started patrolling the waters beneath the bridge. Occasionally, they would shine a red spotlight under the bridge where the bats roosted. From our position, we could not see where the light pointed, but no need, the bats would still emerge . . .

Dusk arrived. It grew darker as night descended. We strained against the darkness, confident that if the bats emerged we could still see their shadows against the reflection of the lights in the water below. People stirred impatiently as the dusk surrendered totally to the night. A woman nearby pointed to a small portion of the bridge near our location. "Can you see that?" she asked. And indeed, I could. I saw a lone bat flit out from beneath the bridge and quickly return. Then, after a few minutes, I saw another (or perhaps it was the same bat). And then finally, another. People were leaving now. The boats cruised lazily away. The bat feeding had evidently reached its full frenzy with the three bats I spotted. No clouds, no waves. No spectacular awe-inspiring encounter with nature. Reluctantly, we departed.

The next day, I asked an employee of the Austin Visitor Center if there were occasions when the bats did not emerge from the bridge. "Oh, my, yes," she replied. "Sometimes, the night before, they have a particularly successful feeding. Since they have happily gorged themselves, there is no need for them to even leave the bridge the following night." Apparently this was the case last night.

I suppose in life we will always encounter our share of disappointments. 1.5 million expected bats actually turns out to be three. The nest egg you have accumulated for retirement that promises a comfortable life is dashed by the downturn in the economy. That job you were uniquely qualified for is given to somebody younger and prettier. You know the story. I'm sure you've experienced your own share of such things.

Conversely though, there are those special unexpected moments that infuse us with joy, wonder and hope. Honestly, those moments, even though they may occur less frequently and perhaps with less magnitude than the disappointments, still outweigh everything else. Occasionally I lose track of this, but lately I've been reflecting upon the small miracles and marvel at those still to come (even at my advanced age). I'm anxious to see what happens next. Maybe 1.5 million bats WILL emerge the next time I'm there. (Which is of course, predicated on the assumption that I will return someday.) And even if they don't, did I mention I've swum with a sea turtle in Hawaii and kayaked past an alligator in the Everglades?

favorite image

I've been extensively experimenting (as much as is possible with only 16 available images) with the new PX100 film. The most surprising finding is that I can "pull" images out of overexposed frames. To the naked eye, the overexposed images appear very bleached out with little hope for anything salvagable. However, when I play with the levels control in Photoshop, an amazing amount of detail emerges as the light brown tonality shifts to sienna. On the negative side, pools of swirling rainbows (like oil drops on water) also emerge during the process. I'm sure this is attributable to the "petroleum-like" surface coating the film emulsion. Under normal conditions, the scanner does not reveal the refraction generated by the coating. It is only when the contrast is increased dramatically do these pools appear. The net of all of this is that I had to perform a fair amount of manipulation to eliminate these unslightly blemishes from the final image. As you can see from the image above however, it is well worth the effort. I consider this one of my best images thus far, even if it was a happy accident. My first order of film has now been depleted. Although I love the qualities of this film, the high cost makes me somewhat reticent to order my second shipment. How soon before I order the next batch will be entirely up to my virtually non-existent sense of self-discipline. It is after all about the pursuit of my art . . .

impossible project images

As mentioned in the previous post, I promised I would share some of my images taken with the new PX100 film developed (no pun intended) by the Impossible Project. Technically, it's really kind of a crummy film. There's a definite lack of contrast and resolution to the film and the black and white rendition is more like black and cream. Artistically though, it's a fun film to shoot with. As in anything, the best results are achieved by capitalizing upon the strengths (or in this case, the weaknesses) of the film. There is a very "quiet" dream-like quality to the images. I have yet to try some of the "odd" manipulations of the original SX70 film (such as subjecting it to boiling hot water, then dipping it into an ice-water bath to separate the emulsion from the backing or separating out the backing and scratching the emulsion with steel wool, etc.), but stay tuned. I may resort to some of this experimentation after I'm suitably satisfied with mastering the basic photographic qualities of the film. At $3.25 a shot, one is reticent to do anything that might jeopardize a successful outcome (based upon the purchase price of two packs of film at $21 each with the addition of an $11 shipping charge. And the price of the film will be going up shortly)! Still, fans of the endeavor undertaken by the Impossible Project to create a new medium of expression utilizing our old SX70 cameras can't help but invest in order to keep the "dream" alive. I hope you like the images.