In my on-again, off-again project to scan and digitize at least some of the >80,000 black & white 35mm negatives from years past in basement storage, I returned to find something that I recalled, triggered by my recent moon and stars image. It is this photo, taken of a dirty and broken window in my beachfront neighborhood of Venice, that for me then (and perhaps now) evoked a view of the cosmos. Venice was a gritty, roughshod place that suited my gritty, grainy, contrasty style of photographing at the time. I quickly assembled a few more — all previously unpublished — that fell to hand to display below (I suspect that I have hundreds and maybe thousands of Venice images from this era), led off by a street scene near the beach and boardwalk in pre-gentrification, or early stages thereof, times.
Oh, yeah. Come to think of it, this was where I was living when I met the love of my life — but she moved me out soon thereafter and eventually we found ourselves in Oregon. And so on and so on.
Today, after a brief early morning nap following the moon shoot, it is off to the doctor. That means waiting. And thinking again about light. And Kim reads on.
Undeterred with the knowledge that last night’s eclipse occurred before moonrise here, we arise at 5am today to take a look in the opposite direction. Here’s the initial view, followed by a re-exposure for the stars, and with the final combined post-processed overlay to show both moon and stars:
Playing around a little bit by sequencing exposure changes, we can turn the moon into a sun:
Here is the initial series for the above, captured at ISO 400 and f/4 aperture, from 5:13 to 5:23am in (almost) one-stop shutter speed exposure increments, still in total darkness and extreme cold, at 29 degrees on the street with bathrobe and slippers:
1/2000 sec. (5:13:14)
1/2000 sec (5:15:27)
1/1000 sec (5:16:38)
1/250 sec — whoops, missed 1/500 (5:17:00)
1/125 sec (5:17;26)
1/60 sec (5:17:48)
1/30 sec (5:18:15)
1/15 sec (5:18:36)
1/8 sec (5:18:59)
1/4 sec (5:19:18)
1/2/sec (5:19:40)
1 sec (5:19:58)
2 sec (5:20:20)
4 sec (5:20:48)
8 sec (5:21:20)
15 sec (5:21:55)
30 sec (5:22:42)
Many people don’t realize how bright the moon really is…
Failing an attempt to document the lunar eclipse in the way that was intended, we nevertheless submit these indications — ranging from about 6:30pm to 10pm — that there was such an event tonight:
6:32pm
6:51pm (with oncoming car headlights)
7:06pm
9:42pm
9:50pm
As time allows, I may try to do a composite over time of the changes (captured in more than 60 images) and/or an animation of the ascent across the sky.
Highlight of the day (so far): Kevin, a fellow P-car addict, came by with his new-old ’89 951. So we went riding (and driving!) for a couple of hours up and down the Spring Creek Road twisties off I-84.
Up early today, but not as early as Kim who took Charlie up Deal Canyon. With a late start, I catch them about three (? — Kim thinks it is much less) miles in, as they were returning. (You can see a work-in-progress experimental take on Charlie’s greeting as he spots me coming up the trail.) After a couple of encounters with stranger dogs, we return into town, still crisp and cool from the fall start. And a little visual automotive trivia is noted along the way, including a reminder of Volkswagen’s “dieselgate” debacle.
(By the way, in case you don’t know, the “TDI” rear badging on VWs (and some Audis) stands for Turbocharged Direct Injection, but is also known as Turbo Diesel Injection. In any case, it designates VW’s diesels for the past decade or so.)
Circa 1975, these are from newly discovered and freshly scanned but previously unprocessed negatives. Including a selfie or two from the distant analog world, taken during the Great Southwest USA Landrover Expedition, a two-week or so trek that my brother and I undertook to explore Utah, New Mexico, Nevada, etc. in one of the finest vehicles known to mankind.
On a shopping sprint to Safeway, we see a ’64 Chevy panel truck (appears to be a good candidate for backcountry photographic excursions), look around the store parking lot and browse the magazine stand, and drive past locally-famous (or not) Pizza Dancing Man.