I think I may have mentioned once or twenty times that I shoot a huge proportion of my work on two focal lengths, the 50mm and 28mm. Now, the thing is that over the years my kit has slowly been set up around these focal lengths — the M3 being rather obviously for the 50mm, and the choice of the M4-P based around the fact it was the only affordable M-mount body to house the 28mm framelines. But things have since changed after the purchase of the Zeiss 21mm.
I have never really gotten along well with reflex cameras. No, this is not some grudge borne out of spite from my quest to reattain my 20/20 vision of yesteryear, and subsequent wranglings with pretty much anything using a (flippy or not) silvered surface to magic the light through a lens into my eye.
No, it goes way back to my two firsts in the world of photography — my first camera, a dinky little Nikon D5100 plastic fantastic, though how I adored it back in the day, and the Nikkormat FT2.
My very first barn-find Yashica T5 had proven itself to be a stinker. First it made a heck of a racket every time it took a picture, and the lag between pressing the shutter button and the lens actually extending to focus and snap was far too long for my liking. The autofocus was more miss than hit, the squinty viewfinder had no real useful information, and the novelty of the Superscope wore off soon after I’d realised it didn’t fit into my style of shooting.
I’m down to my last nine rolls of Ilford HP5+ at the time of writing, and postal services seem to be rather iffy about their availability amid this global pandemic. With avoiding crowded places being the responsible thing to do, I’ve shut the door – quite literally – on all outdoor activities save for the grocery run. Alas, a week into being a hermit, I started to suffer from withdrawal symptoms from a lack of contact with the shutter button, and no, I wouldn’t just be content with shooting things around my very cramped apartment.
I got home and flopped onto the couch, regarding my newest folly with apprehension and growing regret. A flipping 21mm lens sat in its box in my lap. A lens some would place into the category as a super-wide, purchased by someone who mainly shoots a 50, and much less often a 28. The deal was a bargain, though, I reassured myself.