test rolls

Holga Roll #1

True to my word, I didn’t capture any amazing photos with my first roll of Holga film. I did manage to puzzle out 1.) how to load the bastard thing, and 2.) how to guesstimate the focus (and I thank the Lomo for prior help with that).

It also appears that the camera is, at least for now, free of major light leaks. That may change as time goes on, and the camera receives more abuse. 🙂 It’s also apparent from the photo above that the center of the image is indeed crisper than the edges, and that there is a noticeable amount of vignetting around the corners. I did use the flash, though, which might have added to the effect.

Overall, I think I’m pleased with my Holga.

Now I need to go ship off my three rolls of Lomo film and my one roll of Holga film from the 4th of July.

drumcorps

Drum Corps Reflections

My practice gloves smell like sunscreen and sweat. I reach into the horn case and put them on. I lift out my mellophone, still shiny from the bath and polishing it got Saturday afternoon before the performance.

That shine was the first thing, back in the summer of 1995, that made me truly realize that I was part of a drum corps. I remember being on the practice field at the Memorial Day camp, looking around the circle of horns warming up, and seeing the sun shine bright off the silver. It spoke to me somehow, made me realize that I was part of something I’d never dreamed I could do.

Now, standing in the basement of my house, I pick up my LakeShoremen horn, blow some long tones and lip slurs to warm up, then play through the show, opening my music to look at a few bars in a couple songs that I can never seem to get right. I run through the trouble spots again, then warm down with “Contact,” the horn feature.

It’s up to me now. This isn’t Junior corps, like Northern Aurora or Bluecoats. No one is going to make me practice. If I want to perform better at DCA than I did at DCM, I need to apply myself. Now that I’ve tasted performance again, now that I’ve roll-stepped out onto the turf and seen the stadium lights flash off the silver horns, now that I’ve heard the applause again and been congratulated by one of my own for a job well-done, now I can find the impetus to practice on my own.

How could I have thought of leaving? I’ll have to take time away from LSM eventually, I know… but not quite yet. There’s plenty of time to have kids and stay home on weekends. For now, I’m just starting to remember why I love this activity.

the ongoing saga of my job 1 Comment

Anywhere But Here

My day job doesn’t suck. In fact, my day job is really quite cushy. Eight-to-five, sitting at a desk, fixing people’s loans.

Still, this is the last place I want to be right now.

First off, I have about a zillion creative ideas running around in my head, and more keep popping up as the day goes on. I have to get the laundry done tonight, since I’ll be gone out of town with LSM this weekend, and I also have to practice my mellophone in preparation for that. There are also some other chores around the house that I’d wanted to tackle (mainly as a gesture of goodwill toward my loving husband who usually does all the housework).

I really can’t get excited about being here today. Not that anyone is ever really *excited* about their day job… but some days go faster than others. Today is just dragging like a mofo.

I don’t have much time left before I meet the carpool tomorrow to head out to DeKalb. I have so much to do.

memories

Lachesis

One afternoon in early September 1999, shortly after we moved back into Kohl Hall for our third year as roommates, Amy and I discovered this interloper living just outside our window. We named her Lachesis, after one of the Fates (Clotho, the weaver; Lachesis, who measured the cloth; and Atropos, who cut the thread — rightfully, she should have been Clotho, but Lachesis just sounded cooler).

We and Lachesis lived in harmony for at least a week, until one morning she and her web had vanished. Amy and I maintain that she must have been power-washed off of our windowsill.