Tag: Leica Q2 Mono

Photo by Joe WilcoxApr 30, 20269:18 pm

When AI Makes You Somebody Else

Earlier today, as a memory, Microsoft OneDrive presented photos taken on this date in 2022—when the village of University Heights celebrated 25 years of its iconic sign. I had captured the majority of pics using Leica Q2 Monochrom, which was beyond my meager amateur skills. I sold the camera to a doctor in December 2024.

Looking over the selection, I chose one random street shot for artificial intelligence embellishment. I clicked the “Restyle with AI” button and typed “colorize”, which took surprising amount of time to do. The app, running on Samsung Galaxy S26 Ultra, presented three options. I saved them all for your review, because the AI did more than add color; it made some surprising changes to the content that you must see.

Photo by Joe WilcoxDec 12, 20247:19 pm

I Love Leica But…

Yesterday, someone bought my Leica Q2, which I acquired on Dec. 31, 2019. But my Leica journey started in May 2017 with the original Q, which I initially regretted selling. I preferred the smaller sensor (24 megapixels vs 47.3 for the successor), the look of the images produced, and the ability to switch from single to continuous shooting by flicking a switch set around the shutter button. Besides, the Q was my first Leica love—a feeling that didn’t carry forward as I had expected.

Day before yesterday, a doctor and sculptor bought Q2 Monochrom, which I acquired in December 2020. Turns out I don’t have an eye for black-and-white photography. I got good value from the camera but nowhere near what was hoped. Surely the new owners will do better.

Photo by Joe WilcoxNov 17, 20249:11 pm

Thirsty?

As the November 5th Presidential election approached, I focused on preparing for emergencies—such as protests or infrastructure attacks, regardless the winner (or loser). I stocked up medical supplies and took trauma training for massive bleeding incidents. My wife and I majorly topped off food and water supplies, while I purchased some additional items, particularly for dealing with power outages.

Water bothered me most. What if some crazy person poisoned the water supply, or there was unexpected contamination incident—such as agricultural or industrial runoff or more Mexican spillage. Yikes, cyberattack? The solution that made most sense: Water-filtration system, for purifying the liquid from almost any source.

Photo by Joe WilcoxMay 10, 202410:15 pm

The Sleeper

I rarely photograph San Diego homeless, as a silent sign of respect. But, today, one gentlemen so surprised me that I felt compelled to take the shot—well, several. Walking East on Meade Ave., I saw him sleeping on the sidewalk across the way, where Mission cuts diagonally—think 45 degrees—from the intersection at Park Blvd.

The sleep mask is what intrigued me. He looked so unusually comfortable, lying on the cement, which was surprising, too. Foot and vehicular traffic is fairly brisk, and noisy, on a Friday afternoon; then there is the bus stop—a couple meters away, at most. Yet he looked so serene and lay motionless, but in an open space where homeless are otherwise uncommon.

Photo by Joe WilcoxMay 6, 202410:05 pm

Pop Pie at Night

T long-delayed ophthalmologist appointment finally occurred today. That meant massive dilation to check my optical implants. My pupils were massively large, such that the iris in each eye rimmed so thinly that my best analogy is the muted corona around last month’s total solar eclipse.

As such, I spent most of the day indoors, hiding from sunlight, and only ventured outside after dark—and what a glorious evening, too. Mild: 16 Celsius (61 Fahrenheit). Despite temporarily impaired vision, I brought along Leica Q2 Monochrom.

Photo by Joe WilcoxApr 5, 20249:20 pm

Be a King or Queen for a Night

While black-and-white photography might seem, ah, colorless, it is striking coming from Leica Q2 Monochrom. Take, for example, the Featured Image, which is sharp edge to edge. Pixel-peepers, please, go for it—and to assist you the companion capture is a close-crop for your perusal.

Vitals, aperture manually set: f/8, ISO 200, 1/160 sec, 28mm; 2:31 p.m. PDT, April 2, 2024. The original is composed as shot. Venue: Lafayette, the recently remodeled, iconic hotel located in my San Diego neighborhood of University Heights.

Photo by Joe WilcoxApr 2, 20249:32 pm

Changing Priorities

With increasing mayhem—everything from armed robbery to migrant mischief to unpredictable homeless encounters—self-protection gurus council people, particularly among vulnerable populations like older folks, to practice situational awareness. Stated simply: Pay attention to your surroundings.

Most people are clueless, at least around my San Diego neighborhood. Every day, I see dozens and dozens of folks, many of them walking dogs, wearing Apple AirPods—and thus tuning out by tuning in, so to speak. They don’t pay attention—as they should, if for no other reason than the increased amount of traffic precipitated by increased population density. Previously quiet streets suddenly are quite congested.

Photo by Joe WilcoxMar 29, 202410:47 pm

Doll and Books

Because Cali overtook my lap—and I let her—posting is later than planned and topic changed. Please pardon another black-and-white Featured Image—from Leica Q2 Monochrom. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/4.5, ISO 200, 1/3200 sec, 28mm; 1:01 p.m. PDT, March 26, 2024. Composed as captured.

I came upon the doll and collection of reference books—put out free for the taking—while walking along Madison Ave within the corridor where North Park wedges between San Diego neighborhoods Normal Heights and University Heights.

Photo by Joe WilcoxMar 28, 202410:05 pm

Graffiti Booth

This morning, my wife and I visited with the owner of Guido and Little and long-lost neighborhood favorite Bruce; all three appear in my “Cats of University Heights” series. Meanwhile, despite her disconcertion, tree cutters ravaged her rental property’s plants and trees; landlord’s doing.

Chitchat bounced about topics and somehow trapsed upon payphones—or the lack of them; their disappearance. Coincidentally, on March 26, 2024, I photographed the remanent of one in black and white at the corner of Howard and 30th in North Park.

Photo by Joe WilcoxMar 26, 20249:30 pm

The Sitter

I had planned to close-crop the Featured Image but altered after looking at the context in relation to some past posts (follow the links). The young women sits on a wall alongside the Sprouts market; that sidewalk stretch is a frequent homeless hangout.

To the far right is the entrance to the local library’s book sale room, which is open the third weekend of every month. My recent purchases include the first five volumes of Talk to Me in Korean and ye olde history books.

Photo by Joe WilcoxMar 25, 202410:39 pm

Whom Do You…

The answer related to the Featured Image is easy: No one. I am a fact-oriented journalist, who trusts nobody—nor should you in this era of mass misinformation. With perhaps the exception of Matt Taibbi, there isn’t a soul among my profession whose news reporting I would accept as factual—that is without some independent verification of my own.

We live at a time when commentary and editorialization—narratives, if you prefer—supplant real reporting. Everyone is an armchair analyst with an opinion, and not enough emphasis is placed on gathering facts and assembling them into a meaningful story that unfolds some current event or reveals something legitimately in the public interest.

Photo by Joe WilcoxMar 23, 20249:31 pm

A Fine Fence

There is a purity to black-and-white photography that can make the mundane more—or at least, not less. The Featured Image, captured with Leica Q2 Monochrom, is today’s proposed proof. I unlikely would have stopped to shoot the fence in color, which would have distracted from the rather plain object.

But B&W draws attention to the straight lines of the wood, and even to the structure’s apparent purpose: To protect the tree, which could attract dogs and their owners willing to let the mutts defecate or urinate either upon the grass or at the trunk. Park Blvd in San Diego’s Hillcrest neighborhood bustles with pedestrians and leashed animals. The simple fence is purposeful.