Monday, June 22, 2009
This is George.
The elder sibling hates the name and the ex-reviewer thinks I stole his dog's name. But there's nothing I could do, you know. I lifted him out of the box and I just knew — this was George. He's about eight months old now and I'm still in the process of getting to know him and what he's actually capable of.
Truth be told, I'm still more than a little scared of him. I know, I know. Time and practice and all will be well. I've got to admit that for a camera that I've wanted a long, long time (a DSLR and not the 450D), I am bizarrely reluctant to use it. After having used three cameras over the past four years, I know every camera has a point after which it is yours.
I don't know if this reluctance is a function of not having much to say with my camera or just plain intimidation - you know, the variety that comes calling when you, in a terrifying instant, realise that you're in so far over your head that there's no way but forward.
I took six months and a fourteen day trip to Goa to make the elder sibling's camera "mine". I took a trip to Takhatgarh and Jodhpur to become less frightened of George. I'm jinxed in Rajasthan, you see. Another one of A's cameras bit the dust in my hands in Rajasthan. Don't ask what happened or don't ask how it did but suddenly, I was much, much closer to George. Everything looked rosy on the surface of it but suffice to say, the results leave much to be desired. And for once, I really think that the less I say about something, the better.
In the days since, I have spent nights with my camera manual and the guide book. I now hope for work to leave me alone enough to go out and experiment with what I think I have learnt. I save up for macro and telephoto lenses and badger professional photographers at store events for tips. All things remaining equal, in a lifetime or so, George and I will have no secrets between us.
Pray for me, won't you?