German camera company Leica today announced the Q3, which is now available for preorder. While being tempted to trade in Q2 and upgrade, I am overly enamored with my existing equipment, which more than achieves the “good enough” threshold.
I obtained Leica Q2 on the last day of 2019—and wrote a review two years later (do read it). For sure the new thing tempts, but I must resist—and for another reason that will be explained below.
Consider the Featured Image as start of a two-parter. The intended subject of the street shot is the big guy hanging on to a lamppost, and I had planned to close-crop on him. But just as I clicked Leica Q2 Monochrom‘s shutter, someone scooted into the frame. The unintentional photobomber instead makes the moment.
Vitals, aperture manually set: f/5.6, ISO 200, 1/1600 sec, 28mm; 3:11 p.m. PDT, April 20, 2023. Location: San Diego’s Balboa Park.
In April 2016, I started to write “Why is Hollywood Obsessed with Viral Armageddon?” In June 2017, I shot a photo to illustrate the post, which wasn’t finally finished until March 2021—nearly a year after the World Health Organization declared SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2)/COVID-19 to be a pandemic.
San Diego’s Museum of Us exhibit “Cannibals: Myth & Reality” must be ongoing because I came upon the same sign still in place six years later—as you can see from the Featured Image, captured using Leica Q2 Monochrom, on April 20, 2023. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/5.6, ISO 200, 1/160 sec, 28mm; 3:23 p.m. PDT.
While wandering around Balboa Park on April 20, 2023, I passed by several spots where people evangelized their religious faiths. Among them, Hare Krishna was one and Jehovah Witness was another. For the latter, I stopped to chat with a tall gent, wearing a broad smile, thick-frame eyeglasses, and straw-like hat.
He regularly comes down from Vista to San Diego to spread the good word about Jehovah. I didn’t think to mention that my apartment is located about three blocks from a Kingdom Hall. He graciously agreed to be photographed—and the woman, whom I believe was his wife, too. The Featured Image comes from Leica Q2 Monochrom. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/5.6, ISO 200, 1/1250 sec, 28mm; 3:16 p.m. PDT.
I couldn’t count the number of times that I have walked by this car, parked in one of the University Heights alleys. I don’t recall which one; they’re so similar in this part of San Diego. On April 19, 2023, I strolled past again, stopped, and turned about. The moment demanded antithetical approach: Shooting colorful stickers in black and white.
The super sharp Featured Image comes from Leica Q2 Monochrom. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/5.6, ISO 200, 1/400 sec, 28mm; 5:11 p.m. PDT; composed as shot.
Before taking stealth shots of a pair of content creators, I turned Leica Q2 Monochrom onto a skateboarder going around Bea Evenson Fountain in San Diego’s Balboa Park. Samsung Galaxy S23 Ultra‘s 10x zoom lenses—that’s 230mm film equivalent—let me close the distance on the two women but the photo is muddy rather than sharp.
By contrast, the captures from the camera are richly detailed with great dynamic range, even close-cropped. The smartphone’s small sensor cannot compete with the Leica’s full frame. High IQ, meaning image quality, lets me crop in and get much the same benefit of the Samsung’s zoom caapability. That said, 230mm is huge reach and not to be easily dismissed because of its overall utility on a device carried in the pocket.
What could be more aspirational than freedom? Shake off the shackles of mortgage or rent—and associated financial obligations—to travel about as a deliberate vagabond. You aren’t homeless because your vehicle is your residence. Cost-effective. Safe and contained. Simple. Free. All are allures of vanlife.
But what happens when aspiration falls far from reality? I guess that’s the state of the Featured Image, captured using Leica Q2 Monochrom, yesterday. I came upon the van for sale along Alabama Street in San Diego neighborhood University Heights. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/5.6, ISO 100, 1/1600 sec, 28mm; 11:33 a.m.
February 24 marks the first anniversary of Russia’s incursion into Ukraine. The United States’ involvement prolongs the conflict—leading to more lives lost and ever-increasing destruction of homes, businesses, and infrastructure.
As allies join the fracas—and increase armaments supplied to Ukraine (OMG, tanks!), along with billions upon billions of financial support—what should have been a regional conflict escalates to global war. We are on the brink, and Joseph Biden’s ministrations in Kyiv this week and elsewhere among NATO members sets the world on a dangerous course. Europeans prepare for the possibility of nuclear bombings (one, two, three examples), while Americans are as clueless as lemmings racing towards the cliff.
My wife and I are both studying Korean, and she is quite a bit more an advanced student. As part of my effort, I purchased 2.2 x 3.5-inch blank flash cards with binder ring to write words in Hangeul on one side and English on the other. I study vocabulary while walking, passing countless other people wearing white AirPods and listening to music. But today, I came upon kindred spirits, so to speak—likewise putting good use to their time walking.
Along Georgia Street, between Howard and Polk, in San Diego neighborhood University Heights, from behind I approached an elderly woman pushing a walker accompanied by another lady holding a smartphone from which came repeated English words. They studied a foreign language, too! The pair clearly were of Asian heritage, and I hoped Korean because wouldn’t that make a great story. But based on what little native tongue spoken between them, my guess is Japanese.
Rarely is the frequency with which I go to one of the local banks. But need pulled me across the bridge over Washington Street into San Diego neighborhood Hillcrest, where I and others looked on gasping at the most terrifying spectacle: A little dog frantically running up Vermont from Robinson and then zigzagging into moving traffic along University Avenue.
Cars braked, pulled to the side, and honked. I was sure the lost pup would get hit, but somehow he (or she) sprinted into the Hub plaza unharmed. I followed along, hoping to corral the animal to safety. The dog ran around the side of Ralph’s Supermarket and disappeared. As I pursued, a woman pulled her car alongside and asked about the animal. Was I following? She was late for an appointment but said she cried seeing the poor thing. I explained my intentions.
My wife and I set out for Costco Business Center to stock up foodstuffs, today. Our car is going into the shop for a short stint, and we wanted to grab grub from stores that are too far away to walk. But the entrance ramp onto HR-163 was inexplicitly closed, compelling us to abort. Trader Joe’s was nearby, eggs were on our list, and the grocery sells a dozen for the same price as the warehouse.
But would there be any in stock? For weeks, we’ve watched countless commentators warn about a shortage of eggs and skyrocketing prices (like seven bucks a dozen). Bird flu is blamed. If I learned nothing else from all the SARS-CoV-2(severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2)/COVID-19 insanity, fear is the virus—and, whoa, is it contagious. My advice to you: Don’t be afraid. Judge by what you see, not by what you hear someone say.
For nearly three years, soon after SARS-CoV-2(severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2) set the world on lockdown against COVID-19, I started hearing—and also saying—”be safe” as closing remark whenever parting from anyone; particularly public places, such as grocery stores, where workers risked exposure to something every day.
A few days ago, while watching a YouTube video from Bjorn Andreas Bull-Hansen, I was surprised, and delighted, when he closed with admonition “be strong”. That’s it! I thought. How right to say! So I lift from him my motto for 2023. Too many people have been trying to stay safe—fearful and insular—for too long. We all should instead be strong—and fearless before any and all uncertainty. Take authority for yourself, family, community, and country. Yes, be strong.