This post is about the various settings I use to photograph model horses in 1:32 (Breyer Stalemate) scale and smaller. The same things can be used for larger scales with a few tweaks. This post doesn’t cover image editing, white balances, etc. just Av, F-stops, and ISOs!
F#— Lens Aperture, F# (F5 -> F32)
smaller number = more light, larger number = more depth of field
Av— Shutter Speed, 1/x (1/15 -> 4)
larger number = more light
ISO— Film Speed, ISO (100 -> 1600)
larger number = more grainy, more light
1. Dogs travel with you, cats travel in tangent arcs.
2. “Stop thinking with your heart!” The alien grabbed the gun from Marc, but the refugees had already scattered into cover. With a curse it flung the gun back at him. “This nurturing thinking is counterproductive, you are ill-evolved for conflict.”
“Yeah, you keep thinking that,” Marc muttered.
3. Looking at the sky you’d swear it was seconds away from a downpour, but it’s been that way for days without a drop.
4. Two men show up at my door a week after my mothers death. They are polite but firm and I find myself buried in the minutiae of survivorship.
Well technically the megablog turns five today, but the soul of this blog has been around for closer to ten years if you count all of it’s various incarnations.
I am still not really sure what I’m doing, but such is the way of most personal blogs. (Even if my blog makes the occasional stab at being something more professional.) We ramble, we shift topics and trends as the whim arises, we are mercurial folks with mercurial blogs and that isn’t such a bad thing.
Or at least it’s an amusing thing! (I hope)
Looking back over the 2,000+ posts of yesteryore there has been a lot of art, a lot of writing, and a lot of starting over in the hope that Being An Adult would get easier on the 18765723th try.
I was thinking of making another dramatic pronouncement of yet another Quest for The Holy Grail Adulthood, but then I thought better of it.
So in the grand tradition of Blogs-Written-By-This-Specific-Martha And-Not-Stewart-Or-Washington-Although-I-Doubt-Washington-Would Have-A-Blog-Hmm-I-Should-Google-That I shall continue to commit art and spin stories and have the best intentions of posting regularly (but probably fail)!
Moving to the new house meant packing up my art desk… and then unpacking it again, and again, and again. I may possibly have a small art hording issue, but art is like books right? It’s a library not a horde? 😉
But unpacking has also forced me to catalog all of the projects I started doing and then stopped. There are horses in the midst of resculpting and horses in the midst of painting, all trapped in an event horizon composed of other shinier projects. Sometimes more than halfway done, sometimes less– but all of them sitting in incomplete lumps.
So I’ve decided the rest of this year will be restricted to commissions and completing old projects. I’m not going to touch anything that I haven’t already made some sort of progress on. I was going to make a list, but even that got depressing once I started realizing just how much I have.
There are entire boxes of bodies that I haven’t brought myself to crack open yet, just because the horde herd is so large.
But every new day is a new beginning and I’m going to try and start burning through the backlog. (And at some point design and build a display cabinet for the resulting Etsy residents.) I’ve found I spend a lot of time talking about doing things and not really doing them, so this will be the last post that doesn’t include workbench photos.
My brain is an interesting place to live sometimes. For the most part the two of us have worked out an uneasy truce somewhat akin to a very tired parent and a cranky two year-old.
For various reasons this week was one of the bad ones. So I let it dictate what color socks it was going to wear, what kind of ice cream to have for dinner, what order M&M colors needed to be eaten in, and tried to find it all amusing.
In return I get to function as a mostly normal adult until the good days roll back around (as they always do)– it’s not a bad brain, it’s just needs things to be Just So sometimes.
And it’s worth it, dealing with every weird quirk and strange sideway hop, because from that grows everything else I am.
On sunny, windy days I walk out for lunch, squint into the sky, unfurl imaginary wings and soar.
I can sing songs that didn’t exist until I picked the first note and lyrics that tumble into place in rhythm with my footbeats to be forgotten five minutes after I start walking.
Universes rise and fall on those walks. Dreams shiver into being, are torn apart and are rebuilt, a thousand variations of what could be, might be, reworked into stories that are filed away for future use.
I can be normal, but sometimes I just have to not be.