This shot is from our recent Dakota trip. It's from Rugby, North Dakota, on a farm. As part of my Dakota trip I did manage to shoot a couple of old schoolhouses and so, what can I say? I just can't get my fill of them. Out to Gillespie I go, "God willing and the creek don't rise." (It's supposed to rain tomorrow. Here's hoping the weather holds.)
In other, almost unrelated news, I have been doing battle with my tripod yet again. Got it together, sort of. Managed to attach the foot back to its rightful place, after "Special Forces" Dan was kind enough to mail it back to me from Dakota. All well and good, but then the damn head got loose, so I had to tighten that, and then it pinched me and pissed me off. Damn tripod, how I curse you so! Still better than the alternative, so I'll shut up now but, c'mon man, did you really have to pinch me? Must you draw blood like this? What's next? Care for a pound of flesh to go with that, you utter vampire you!
Couldn't manage to find my kick plate yet again. Somebody asked me on the Internets what a kick plate is. That one's easy, man, it's the part of the camera I keep loosing! Seriously, it's also called a "quick release plate" or a "side kick" and it's the part of the tripod that attaches to the camera so that you can remove the camera more quickly from the tripod head. Annoying but necessary in proper tripod operation. Of course, the little "quick release plate" is prone to getting lost, especially in my camera bag. Always seem to loose the freaking things. Managed to find it only after totally emptying my camera bag and scouring the bowels of the old girl. Managed to find almost everything *but* the kick plate (old boarding pass, stale crackers, about five old pens, spent flash memory, the list goes on. Geesh, what do I keep in there?) Finally found it. Of course, it's always in the last place you look, right?
Seriously, I so should do a blog post on what's in my camera bag, just so I embarrass myself into cleaning it out some. Why do I carry around all of this crap? I need to strip down and do the visual artist equivalent of "an acoustic set" sometime soon. It's either that or get a freaking pack mule and, frankly, I don't want to go with the donkeys, m'kay.
Who am I kidding? Even if I were locked in a room with nothing else, I'd still misplace the freaking kick plate. Man, I so hate that thing, it's not even funny.
Until next time...