Saturday, September 17, 2011


At least three times in as many days, I've been asked some variation of "What would you do if you broke your camera/it died?"

People seem to expect me to cringe at the thought - as though I can't possibly bear the thought of my (admittedly beautiful) equipment biting the dust.

I find that a bit odd. A camera to me is just like any other tool, whether that's a hammer, my pocket knife, or the pens and pencils I use in my everyday schoolwork. I don't baby or coddle any of my gear. I take it all out into the wet and the cold and the mud and the dust just as easily as I take it out on a beautiful Saturday morning like today.

One bag of my tools

My theory behind tools: If it can't do what I ask of it and take a beating in the process - I need better tools. If a tool breaks, why spend all day crying and moaning about it? Get a better one and keep hammering, cutting, writing, and shooting.

This same mentality is why I find the whole "Canon vs Nikon" debate absurd. I don't care which hammer or pen you use - why should you care which one I use? Why does it matter to anyone how many megapixels I have or whether my lens is Sigma or Nikkor? It doesn't matter one freaking bit. In fact, when a photographer comes up to me and says "Oh man, what are you shooting with? The D300s? That's pretty cool. I shoot the D90. Nikon's just better, ya know?" All I can think is about how that photographer clearly hasn't figured "it" out yet.

More of my tools

I know, I shouldn't look down on those people - I used to do the same thing. The difference is now, I've learned that the tools aren't what matter - the results are.

...and in case you're wondering, I have literally used my camera as a hammer before.