Tag: Leica Q2 Mono

Leica by Joe WilcoxOct 21, 20229:24 pm

About Those Mail-in Ballots

Americans vote in the Midterms on Nov. 8, 2022, but Californians can do so now by drop-boxing or posting the mail-in ballots that all registered voters received—and who can guess how many people moved out of state or have died (sure, blame SARS-CoV-2/COVID-19); are the voter rolls ever up to date?

By my count, across San Diego County, there are about 149 dropbox locations, but local news media claims more than 200. Unlike Election 2020 many, if not most, are not staffed. So who’s voting for whom is the question, which applies as much to those dispatched by USPS?

Photo by Joe WilcoxOct 18, 20228:45 pm

The Reader

Five days ago, while walking through San Diego district Hillcrest, I passed a gent reading a newspaper outside the bagel shop at shopping center The Hub. A few meters beyond him, I turned about and backtracked, thinking he could make a good moment. I shot two quickies from the hip, using Leica Q2 Monochrom.

The first is blurry; the second is the Featured Image. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/5.6, ISO 200, 1/125 sec, 28mm; 10:10 a.m. PDT. The candid capture is minimally recomposed and somewhat straightened. I seriously considered presenting a tight, 100-percent crop, which would make the headline—about a fired cop—clearer. Zooming in for a look is your job, should you want it.

Photo by Joe WilcoxOct 16, 20228:58 pm

Welcome to Hellcrest

I grit my teeth and put on my persevering personality, whenever need demands walking to neighboring Hillcrest. The atmosphere reeks of hedonism, narcissism, and self-obsession. Physically, the place is dirty, gritty, and seedy—particularly along the main University Avenue corridor and somewhat less Washington Street. The community is considered to be San Diego’s gay district, which couplings confirm and the plethora of rainbow flags or others for various gender identities; fire hydrants, too.

Here’s where someone will accuse me of being homophobic, when I am not: Well-to-do residents who whoop up happy hour and late-night fling fests grimly juxtapose a sizable homeless population. For a community of residents obsessed with all-rights for all genders, the lack of regard—or even sympathy—for people lacking more fundamental rights (life and well-being) is inhumane and, disappointingly, jives with my atmospheric assessment in the previous paragraph. What? Is it liberal values for me but not for thee?

Photo by Joe WilcoxOct 14, 20229:25 pm

Hunched Homeless

Whenever walking through Hillcrest, I typically carry Leica Q2 Monochrom, because black and white fits the grim character. Sidewalks are dirty and smell of urine; there are more homeless than litter—and the latter is no small amount. The San Diego neighborhood juxtaposes those residents of means (rents and cost of everything is high) and those without anything more than what they cart around.

The Featured Image is example enough. I believe that’s a gent hunched over looking at something—if not sleep standing, or attempting to be. Bags of belongings hang from what could be two shopping carts, but who can tell with bedding draped over?

Photo by Joe WilcoxOct 3, 202211:17 pm

A Grim Remembrance

Twenty years ago today, my wife and I stood staring out our front door transfixed by the Fox News helicopter hovering low nearly overhead. The thing couldn’t have been much above the treetops. For about thirty minutes we watched the copter, all while wondering why we couldn’t find explanation for its presence.

In October 2002, there were no social networks, like Facebook or Twitter, to blast second-by-second chirps about immediate happenings. We relied on radio and television, along with Google and Yahoo search. None answered the question. So Annie headed out for a walk. Literally, two minutes later, a friend rang, warning: “Someone is driving a white van down Connecticut Ave. shooting people”. Ah, yeah.

Photo by Joe WilcoxAug 18, 20227:26 pm

The Empty

I do not drink alcoholic beverages and can count on one hand the few occasions of inebriation as a teenager, when booze experimentation started and stopped. My taste for the stuff is yuck, and I prefer being clear-headed, which was a big advantage during my working reporter days. People who have had a few too many, as they say, are carelessly chatty; loose lips reveal too much to sober ears like mine.

That said, I always felt uneasy being the only non-drinker in the room—like everyone looked at me oddly. Because when everyone else boozes and you don’t, the presumption is that you must be a recovering alcoholic. That’s how, ah, tippled is America’s cultural heritage. Sobriety is abnormal.

Photo by Joe WilcoxJul 24, 202210:10 pm

Modes of Transportation

Please forgive my impertinence, but I chuckled when seeing a Go-Go brand four-wheeler parked alongside more traditional two-wheel scooters—the former being designed for people disabled by age or infirmity. You’ll find younger, abler-bodies riding on the others.

The group seemed so right together and yet so wrong—meaning: The four-wheeler, or its driver, aspiring to be more like the others, who should stop and wonder what they might someday truck on. Of course, the little vehicles will be voice- (or mind) activated, artificial intelligence-guided, and self-driving decades when need arises to use them.

Photo by Joe WilcoxJul 22, 20229:19 pm

Bluegrass and Monochrome

The third of four Friday live music concerts filled Old Trolley Barn Park this evening in my San Diego neighborhood of University Heights. Bluegrass greeted descending dusk as I arrived packing Leica Q2 Monochrom. I captured crowd shots—three, and share two.

As an afterthought, I pulled out iPhone 13 Pro for a single color composition, which I chose for the Featured Image. Vitals: f/2.8, ISO 200, 1/99 sec, 77mm; 7:37 p.m. PDT.

Photo by Joe WilcoxJul 21, 20228:36 pm

Voluptuously Vintage

For weeks, I have seen evidence that one of my neighbors keeps, or recently acquired, a vintage vehicle. The massive shape was unmistakable under some kind of natural fiber covering. This afternoon, I got glimpse of the classic car, parked open view. Early evening, I returned with Leica Q2 Monochrom.

The Featured Image is one of the two photos, uncharacteristically captured with auto-settings. Vitals: f/3.5, ISO 200, 1/125 sec, 28mm; 7:39 p.m. PDT. A snippet setting sun provided just enough daylight. I had few composition options, because of how the automobile is parked and my shooting through bars of a fence.

Photo by Joe WilcoxJun 25, 20229:17 pm

Table Creature

Three minutes before sunset, 7:57 p.m. PDT, I came across a discarded table that piqued my interest, because the thing reminded me of an animal. You disagree? Be a kid for 10 seconds, put on your seeking-creatures-in-the-clouds mind, and take another gander.

The clinical term for finding animals, faces, and the like in clouds or other objects is Pareidolia. I’m not sure that applies to this table, for which no specific beast comes to my mind. Rather, I see something inanimate that could come to movement, when looking at the spacing of the legs and what could be a head sticking from the flat board body.

Photo by Joe WilcoxJun 14, 20229:24 pm

Tattered Tome

March 7, 2022, along Howard Avenue, down the block from the University Heights library, I came across discarded, open book Basta!: Land And The Zapatista Rebellion In Chiapas by George A. Collier and Elizabeth Lowery Quaratiello. Copyright 1994 and 2005.

Say what? Published by Food First Books? Self-described, the organization “has been working to end the injustices that cause hunger since 1975…Food First has published over 60 books and hundreds of articles and research reports”. Ah, okay. Mottos like “where food justice grows” illuminate the group’s progressive politics and policies.

Photo by Joe WilcoxApr 30, 20229:21 pm

A Sign is 25

I can’t imagine how our family still resides in the village of University Heights, which is where we settled upon arriving in San Diego nearly 15 years ago. But here we remain, even as rising rental fees and soaring property values make the area unbearably costly. Exit strategy has been my priority for some time, at least since our decision not to buy the Schoolhouse five years ago. As homeowners, we would have been more natural members of the community.

Still, my wife and I briefly joined today’s block party—along Park Blvd between Adams and Madison—celebrating 25 years of the neighborhood’s iconic sign, which you can see in the Featured Image, taken using Leica Q2. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/8, ISO 100, 1/80 sec, 28mm; 4:41 p.m. PDT. The event officially started at Five.