It was 1978.
She was an American in Paris, he a Japanese, born with a camera around his neck. He was a friend, a brother, really, whom she had only recently met. He spoke no English, she spoke no Japanese. French became the lingua franca between them, though she found his accent almost as much of a barrier as his mother tongue.
She watched him intently as he deliberately chose his bodies and their corresponding cylinders of black and glass, inserting and twisting the male and female parts with confidence.
Some were longer than others. Some were shorter than her diminutive fingers. As he placed each combination on the tripod, she wondered. What is it he sees? How does what he sees differ from one lens to another? How does his view differ from mine?
Assigned the role of ad hoc assistant, she dutifully caddied his tripod and other items wherever he went in the stadium that day. An historic place, that. It had been the site of the 1924 Summer Olympics, a spectacle several thousands of years old made young again only recently, at the time.
As he thoughtfully chose each vantage point, again she wondered. Why here? Why not there? Couldn’t he get everything he needed from the top of the bleachers instead of roving all about the stadium? Film roll after film roll, why so many pictures?
With a borrowed Minolta rangefinder at her disposal, she shot a few of her own pictures from each spot where Koji chose to work. She saw the static construction of her own camera and wondered, was she being limited or enabled by her single implement?
Watching her companion in his photographic endeavor was fascinating, and as she traversed the Atlantic back home again to Long Island, NY, the desire for an SLR took root.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Canon 50mm 1.8 lens
Vivitar 75-205 Zoom lens
plus assorted filters.. the polarizer being my favorite
Canon PowerShot S3 IS
Canon PowerShot SD700 IS
Sanyo PM-8200 cellphone
Bogen Manfrotto tripod
ProMaster camera bag
to be continued…