He went wider


Dear Reader, you know how in the past I have talked about how some of us love the big massive telephoto lenses?  And how others like to go wider?  And how we start of with the “nifty fifty” F1.8 and learn on that?  That was in the days before digital photography and a world where zoom lenses came to the fore.  We had them before in the days of film photography, but my memories are of using these prime lenses, and zooms seemed to be looked down on.  I wanted to go wider.

I remember my first proper photography course where I learnt the basics of film photography, going from taking the photo, developing the film, and getting a print as an end result.  I remember seeing a photo of a horse taken with a massive head taken with a wide-angled lens and finding it fascinating!  When I said the head was massive, the lens deformed our view of this majestic beast and its body seemed smaller than its head, which is something indeed.  It was then that I learnt a photograph doesn’t have to represent a visual that is faithful to the subject.  We can mess around with reality and show the world completely differently.

So, as I said, I learnt photography with a 50mm lens.  These 50mm seem to be closest to how the human eye sees the world.  It represents reality.  In 2018 I acquired the Fujifilm X100F which has a lens equivalent to a 35mm lens.  Slightly wider, but still represents the reality of this world, and is considered “the” street photography lens par excellence.  It has a larger angle of view and allows me to get a little more in the frame and I felt the difference with the 50mm straight away.  It was still a great lens and very versatile until I tried taking a close-up portrait.  All of a sudden, I discovered some distortion in my model.  I’m not saying that my model is deformed, well, no more deformed than any of us. 

Suddenly watching YouTube, as many of us do apparently, I discovered the 16-35mm F4 lens from Canon for my Canon 6D Mark II.  It was a little more than I had ever paid for a lens, but worth every centime of euro and so satisfying.  If you care to have a look in the archives of this blog on my Instagram feed, you will discover many photos taken with this lens.  My desire to go wider was now a reality.  Distortion of reality was now in my hands.  I could create interesting images.  I discovered the way a very wide-angled lens can transform the world around us.  Leading lines exist all over the place, and the wide-angled lens exaggerates each line, leading or not!

But, and this is a big but.  You fellas can’t deny… It is possible to go wider.  I know.  Exciting isn’t it!  My mind is now blown!  There is a lens, a very special lens, called a fish-eye lens.  This type of lens can offer you even more distortion and make the world seem even weirder than it already is!  Canon does one.  It’s a 15-8mm zoom lens.  There are two types of fish-eye lenses.  One will give a rectangular view, however distorted, and one will give a round image with a black frame.  It’s a wonderful piece of engineering and for over €1000 it can be yours.  But for €1000 it can’t be mine simply because I can’t justify spending that much money on camera kit and might even be cause for divorce.  Since it is cheaper to keep her, I would have to look elsewhere instead of buying a super duper automatic lens from Canon.  So like any self-respecting poor photographer I went onto Amazon and found a manual lens for my Fujifilm XT2 (like the famous X100F except I can change lenses) for 169€ which is slightly cheaper and a slightly more reasonable purchase, and my dear wife didn’t bat an eyelid!  Not batting and eyelid is a very desirable reaction!!!

I will go out this afternoon to test this new toy and get back to you with some pictures!                                          

Hepple for Photos not Gin


Hepple. Even just saying it gives me a certain sensation of pleasure. Heh-pull. It just rolls of the tongue, and the pull sound at the end is tension that is let out and offers some relief. A bit like a fart, but less smelly. Amis de la poésie, bonsoir!

Now don’t get me wrong, I love Alnmouth but I like to get out into the country when I visit my parents. You drive into Alnwick, and then through the town past the TA base going up towards Rothbury and the on to Otterburn where the Army likes to play soldiers with live ammo and you are warned not to go onto the land otherwise you might go boom. Going boom is not a nice thing to do and should he avoided at all costs unless you really do want to go out with a bang.

You go past Cragside which as a family we have visited before, in the sun and the rain. It was one Summer and it was raining all bloody week and my mother said we should go out to Cragside and have fun going through the maze on the hills around the very stately home. It was a great idea, except for the fact that it had been raining like a cow taking a piss, and the whole place was waterlogged and we were all wearing crocs (other more suitable footwear from other brands do exist) and that other footwear would have been most welcome. We arrived back at my parents house soaked and a little pissed off. Oh the joys of family holidays during the British summer.

I digress. Je diverge, et parfois je dis bite!

Anyway, you go past Cragside and you will eventually end up at Hepple. I tend to go through the village and park up on the verge after the bridge. You can’t miss it, and if you do miss it the you are on the wrong road.

I have this stupid idea in my head that if I watch enough YouTube and try and learn ever more about photography from the various videos watched, and learn to leave my comfort zone and try new things, then I might discover something new and find out something that I might not even suspect possible. Yes it was one of those kinds of days… I should have known.

I was in the car with my camera and my father for this trip out. For some reason or other, fate had thrown us together and I had missed having sandwiches for lunch at parent’s house and still can’t remember how and why my father was in my car. Well, I wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to spend some quality time with one of my favourite people. So we had driven off to Hepple. I promise I will get to the end of this story. Maybe not straight away, but maybe by the end of this article.

Parked up. Ready to shoot. Camera out. Lens on camera. And then I just jave to work the scene and try and get compositions and pictures together. Now one video suggested using a telephoto lens for landscape photography. I wasn’t sure about this but tried it anyway just in case. While I was out of the car taking photos my father would be quietly listening to car radio holding one of the lenses as I was doing my thing. Bless him. That man has the patience of a saint. Either that or he enjoyed seeing me doing my thing. It was sharing with him one of the ways I seem to spend a lot of time.

It’s moments like that, that will stick in my memory forever in a way that going to the kitchen to get salt for my wife will be forgotten once I arrive in the kitchen. Not that I don’t want to to get salt for my wife, I just seen to forget very quickly.

So I started of by using my wide-angle lens and the thought, why the hell not, I’ll get the 70-300mm out of the bag and see what I can do with it. A wide angled lens will give you a very wide angle of view and offer up some wonderful distortion. Hence the name wide angled lens. The originality of that name still blows my mind! A telephoto lens however will give you the impression that everything has been drawn in and the background seems to be just being the foreground. It compresses the view… However they still say telephoto lens and not compressor lens. Go figure.

In the photos from this outing I think you’ll be able to see which photos were taken with which pens and of you click on each photos you can see the type of lens used in the description.

It’s one of my happy places and one that I keep going back to. They must think it weird that every summer a French car pulls up and this fat dude gets out with a camera and starts taking photos then gets back into said French car and drives off with souvenirs in his head that will keep him going until he comes back. It was just brilliant being able to just take in the scenery and enjoy being there with my Dad. Definitely a keeper that memory. It was just happiness. Happiness is being out with your Dad taking pictures and just being two men in a car driving across the Northumbrian countryside. These little instances of happiness that just seem to carry you through. Thanks Dad.

Happy birthday dear Daughter


13 years ago today, I had just had 24 hours of being a father for the second time.  I had become the father of a daughter.  The father of a daughter is not the father of a son.  Despite what the feminists might tell us, there is still a void of difference between the two.  If I listen to the ambient discourse, I have to treat my children the same in the way in the name of sacrosanct equality.  This is complete codswallop because, being an only child and becoming the father of two children, I did not know what to do.  I thought, well, not that bad back in the day, but little did I know that this was even more codswallop than the concept of equality.

I didn’t realise that I had to deal with two completely different people and although one was still a very tiny person, this young lady would teach me how different it can be.  Did I suddenly become overprotective of her?  Damned right I did.  And still am.  And she knows it.  So does my son…  Ooops a daisy!

Like any man and woman, they are complementary.  The same but different, and reflections on my parenting and on my spouse’s parenting.  I like them both despite their many qualities and failings.  Puberty was easier to deal with when my son was going through it, but my daughter was different.  I don’t know if it’s because she’s a girl or just another person.  I know that this too will pass, even for her as it has for my son.  But with a daughter entering puberty at 100 mph and a wife going through menopause, it’s nice having my son around as some testosterone backup.  Before he came back home, there was far too much oestrogen in my house.  Things can be a “little intense” at the moment.

As Padre Pio said, and whose feast day it is today, Pray, Hope, and don’t Worry.  He lived in a friary and not in my house.  He might have said something different had it been the case.  Or maybe not.  God is great, after all.

A View from the Garden


Sometimes you know that you’re going to get a reasonable couple of shots. The conditions just fall into place. Sometimes you have to break away from your Guinness and your parents hoping that they will understand.

We were out in the garden having a drink before eating that evening. It was a Sunday evening, and the day had been wonderful, and there was me thinking that it couldn’t get any better. It could! I had my Canon 6D Mark II with the 16-35mm lens which is a favourite of mine. The previous day’s sea mist had made a comeback. Now fog always makes for some very atmospherical photography as you can see here.

This view is what decided my parents to buy this house all those years ago when they first moved further north from Newcastle. With various winters and storms, some trees have had to come down, but that view through those trees just brings peace to any beholder.

Enjoy and find your peace…

Alnmouth First Day of Photography


As promised, I said I would share photos from my trip to Northumberland post by post. No novels, just photos…

I have got my need for colour out of my system. Maybe. Possibly. Well, never say never, and all that. I wanted to share some timeless black and white photography.

It was my first morning of photography where I sneaked a visit to Scott’s of Alnmouth for elevenses. There was the sea mist that you saw in my article Sea Mist. And when it cleared, it was an amazingly sunny day.

Not necessarily the best of conditions for photography, but as a photographer, I try to adapt to the day’s conditions. Lots of contrast etc. It also avoids getting up the crack of dawn. Thank you Dawn.

Does this mean that I am lazy? Possibly. Do I care? Absolutely not. When on holiday, I commence my day with a cup of tea (or maybe even more than one) and toast. It’s possibly time for a cup of tea right now. As I age graciously, I appreciate these simple pleasures of life. I also still have some Yorkshire tea! You’re jealous now, aren’t you!!

The Queen is dead, God save the King.


God save the King is not a phrase that has been said by my fellow countrymen for over 70 years except for a Cavalry regiment in the British Army who toast the King of Sweden. It is a sad day for my country, and the Commonwealth.

For obituries I’m sure the press has had them written and prepared for the last 15 years. We will hear the obvious references to good innings as we do when ever an elderly grand-parent dies. But Her Majesty was a kind of grandmother to the nation, keeping us together when everyone was losing their shit. She went through war, the loss of Empire, I think 15 prime ministers, or was it 17? Correct me in the comments.

Even though at 96 she may have been closer to death than some of us, her loss to the nation is really like losing a a figurehead that belonged to everyone in this nation. She will be sorely missed by all of us. We will mourn. We will cry. We will comment on what a great Queen she was. We will look also to the future.

The King, is somebody who was born into the job, and was one of the longest servicing apprentices in any firm! His life and the life of his mother has lead him to this moment. Many think he will not be a good King. I beg to differ. Anyone who follows Her Majesty is bound to be overshadowed by her 70 years on the trône.

He will be a different King. By definition he will be a different King. He is a different person. I think he will do a pretty damned fine job of it. We’re in completely new territory here.

The Queen is dead. God save the King