Three Saras

Well, this was fun. And when I say "fun," what I really mean is it was an extreme exercise of shooting, playing, and editing that took most of a day. I'm sure there's an app that will do it all much more easily, but I don't have it. For me it involves getting the lights right - yeah, I'm too old (and vain) to allow every wrinkle and bag to show up; exposure and settings on the EOS R (I've said it before, but sometimes I think flying a jet plane would be easier than operating the new cameras with the many layers of menus and customizable functions) - and that's the easy part, because the next thing that has to happen is I have to create an acceptable initial track - in this case it was the fiddle melody - and the word acceptable, for me anyway, means perfect, which means doing it over and over and over, and still never really being happy with the result. Next, it goes into my video editor on my computer and I save it as an mp4 that I can watch on my phone and play along to which is not as easy as it sounds. When playing with real people there's a subtle micro-adjusting to each other that is going on constantly. When playing with one's self, the adjustment is one-way. After I've recorded everything to my reasonable satisfaction, I layer all the tracks in my video editor on my computer. The most time-consuming part of the process is syncing all of the audio waves, both visually and sound-wise (the clap at the beginning of each track is key). The more advanced video editors can auto-sync; mine does not, and involves lots of manual sliding of tracks, matching the audio wave as close as possible. And while I did a decent job of syncing the tracks here, you can still hear where my playing got off track from myself, at least I can. Then there's the trimming, adding transitions, cropping, and arranging. Oh yeah, and usually some time-wasting tech issue along the way. By the end of the day, I am totally sick of looking at myself (and I usually end up with a hair cut the next day), and I don't ever want to hear or play that tune again.

All of that is a long way of saying "Here is three of me playing Da Slockit Light on (L-R) fiddle, bouzouki, and mandolin." (This is in lieu of my being in Ennis, Co. Clare, where I was scheduled to be at this very moment, playing music with my friends.)

Akiwowo, 4-part

If you find one of me scary, this ought to terrify you - it kind of scares me. This is Akiwowo, the four-part corona-virus-stuck-at-home-alone-learning-new-stuff version. I've spent the better part of three days on this - totally engrossed to the point of forgetting to eat, and even forgetting more than once that 5:00 had come and gone without even thinking about my first beer. The lighting, the camera settings - testing, testing - back and forth between studio and computer; working out the music and the multiple takes on each thing; taking the video editing app to places I had never been before; editing the clips, syncing the clips (and even still, parts of it are not 100%), arranging the clips. It made sitting in my bedroom (in the same upstairs of this same house) as a teenager with my little reel-to-reel and spending hours figuring out how to record myself singing, then playing it back and with a second recorder recording myself singing harmony to the first recording seem very easy in retrospect.

Be Careful What You Wish For

Many Islanders complain about the crowds all summer long - "I can't wait for September!" - but many of us love summer on the Vineyard. I prefer a beach with people over an empty private beach. I enjoy interacting with the visitors who happen by my porch and into my gallery, and I love seeing summer friends and neighbors I haven't seen all year. Yes, it gets stressful while navigating through the grocery aisles and overflowing sidewalks, along with the noise and the traffic, but I have always maintained that a summer with no visitors would be simply horrible and that the people who complain about the crowds don't know what they are asking for or truly understand how dependent we are on the summer people - they literally keep us alive. Back in August, headlines in the Vineyard Gazette announced: Summer Traffic Triggers Talk of Tipping Point. Well, the problem appears to be solved, as this is what Edgartown looks like at the moment on every street in every direction at any given time of day, with no clear indication that anything will be much different by summer.

Be careful what you wish for.

Learning Curves and Empty Days

I had some fun today recording this song and learning how to make a split screen video, which involved hours of focus. These empty days with no set schedule are certainly conducive to getting lost in projects that on any normal day would seem like a total indulgence. Something tells me that even though our lives have been totally disrupted - socially, financially, and in many other ways - on some level we should be savoring this time: days of total quiet, sleeping late, freedom to wander hither and yon; working parents who craved more time at home with their children
suddenly have their wish come true. In some ways, we've been thrust back to the 1950s when families spent time together. I'm not sure how anybody is going to want to get up in the morning and leave home after this thing all plays out.

Anyway, Akiwowo was fun, and just like that, it's 5:00.

Whiling Away the Hours

Sometimes, walking while talking on the phone makes my brain function a little better and the conversation flow a little smoother, and before I know it, I've walked a couple of miles. And, with my hands-free gear, I can also grab a few photos along the way. Nothing terribly new here - same path, different day, different light.



The Vincent House, widely acknowledged to be the oldest house on Martha's Vineyard. The town clock tower a-top the Beautiful Old Church of Whaling Days is to its rear, over on Main Street. These fruit trees will be popping into bloom imminently.

Sheriff's Meadow field - the spot-free sky confirming yesterday's dust-removal victory.







Town wharf, with fishing gear stowed and nary a soul. 
Remnants of by-gone days.

The scallopers are also packed up for the season.

I did discover one new thing - the recently revamped Edgartown Yacht Club now includes a public observation deck, part of Edgartown's ongoing plan to ensure that our harbor and its views are open to all. 



A seagull's-eye view.

Washashore

(above) Ramol(below) A sign for our time. 

The Lumix Sucks (dust, that is)

Yes, that's right - it turns out that the Lumix, during lens retraction, sometimes sucks dust into the camera and onto the sensor. I knew about this going in so was not completely surprised to see a dust spot turn up, starting with last week's moon shot, but was disappointed that it happened so soon (three months, maybe?) It may have been there earlier but that was when I noticed it for the first time.

The good news is that you can find the cure to anything on the Internet. I was a bit skeptical about this, but enough people said it worked for them that I was willing to give it a go. Luckily, I just happened to have one small plastic water bottle on the premises (I rarely-to-never buy bottled water).

It was pretty easy and involved:
1. Cutting the ends off the bottle.
2. Taping the business end of the bottle back on after realizing the bottle would not fit around my particular vacuum hose, but the funnel-shape would fit perfectly inside the hose (the story of my life: two steps forward, one step back all day long)
3. Taping the bottle onto the vacuum hose for secure and tight fit.
4. Inserting lens barrel into the big end of the bottle (perfect fit!)
5. Turning on the vacuum (lowest setting), while simultaneously
6. Turning the camera on and off to make the lens extend and protract repeatedly, maybe five times in all.

And - ta da! - it worked! The dust is gone and that bottle is now safely stored in my tool kit because I'm pretty sure I will need again.

Easter Sunrise 2020

It's not uncommon for me to wake up at 2:00 or 3:00 AM and stay awake for awhile, then drift off again for a couple of hours. I don't even bother to call it insomnia - it's just my sleep pattern. And if you go onto Facebook between those hours you'll see plenty of others awake, too.

But today, when I woke up at 3:00 and then found myself still awake at 4:30, and realizing we were heading into a clear dawn, I decided to officially declare myself up for the day, grab a cup of coffee and pack my gear for Easter Sunrise 2020.

After considering various destinations via TPE (The Photographer's Ephemeris), I decided to stick to my tried and true Edgartown Lighthouse.

The morning was perfectly still - not a breath of wind, and I had the place to myself, all except for one other human being who I feared might end up wandering into my shot but who was just taking a walk and headed off down the beach to the left a ways. I was surprised to find myself alone down there. Somehow I thought this would be a hot spot for Easter morning photos.

These photos are a combination of EOS R with the 24-70, Lumix LX100II, and 5DMKII with the 70-200. I was happy with the performances of all of them. The only thing I might have done differently would have been to throw the big Sigma 150-600 into a back pack, but, one: I didn't feel like hiking down to the beach with the extra weight; two: I figured the focal length would be too long for the amount of space I knew I'd be working in - which was mostly true. But yeah, I probably should have packed it. L-a-z-y!



North Water Street. It would have been just like me to have gotten distracted by this and missed the sunrise, but I managed to take one shot and keep on moving (my destination is not far from here), my eyes on the prize.







Looking towards Chappaquiddick.







I figured the sun would be coming up very close to the Cape Pogue gut, and I wasn't too far off. That would have been the case if I had set myself up at the town wharf, I believe.









This lucky gull is flying off with its breakfast - most likely a (unlucky) scallop. He will circle around and drop it onto the concrete base surrounding the lighthouse where it will break open and he'll feast on the innards. I wonder what gull was the first to figure out that survival trick.

A glance backwards towards my little town. Happy Easter, everyone.