Fezzik In Paris

Two Americans, three cats, and too many places named "de Gaulle"

I have been mulling over what to write about Avignon and find myself somewhat stuck; it’s not that there’s not much to say (we were there for three days), but I wound up taking a startling number of pictures on this trip, 237, and uploading 30-odd of them in the attached gallery.

As a side note, as someone who shot on film for a non-zero length of time, the digital photography revolution (recursive side note: I hate how fucking everything having to do with a consumer-level technology change is termed “the x revolution;” at best, the vast majority of the changes in question are evolutionary as opposed to revolutionary, but then again, nobody is calling for a pedantry revolution, so I may be out on my own here. Of course, this is pretty much the dictionary definition of a bandwagoning fallacy, so fuck it, we’re back: here comes the pedantry revolution) has done weird things to the number of pictures you take; when I was in Germany during the summer of 2000 (with my spiffy Pentax SLR), I came home with three rolls of film. That’s all of seventy-two pictures (probably 76, given that I always shot to the very end of the film strip, probability of said negatives being interrupted by a large piece of tape be damned); I used a single roll of black and white exclusively in Berlin, a roll of 400 ISO Kodak for general use, and a roll of 1600 ISO film that the father of a friend of mine gave me, the results of which I don’t really remember beyond the fact that the film wasn’t quite as low-light friendly as he’d led me to believe.

I’ve had the Nikon for well under a year now, and there are just over 3300 images in my lightroom library. As any one of the very few people that have access to the raw picture dump know, that’s not to say that these photos are worth anything; there’s three or four versions of the same thing, shot at slightly different angles, with slightly different focal points, or with slightly different framing. There are pictures of things that are hardly photo-worthy (see: stinky mattresses). There are pictures of buses, of pigeons, of window latches, of barges, of things that, before the move to digital, one would not take pictures of. I’m sure the signal-to-noise ratio is worse, but that’s where things are. It’s weird.

In any case, I’d posit that I have a valid excuse for this embarrassment of photographic riches (quantitative, not qualitative riches): for the entirety of the weekend, the light was near-perfect.

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