I retract my previous statement. Yes, slalom is a fun word, but photomacrography is funner.

I plummeted into a photographic low last week. (“I hate photography.” “No you don’t, Joy.” “Yes, I do, I really really do.”) Part of it was my own fault for building up months of anticipation to dive back into macro photography, coupled with a lack of functional know-how for the equipment I ended up using. Since taking my trusty Konica-Minolta for a swim in Nippersink Creek, I’ve felt an immense void in my photo-flexibility. Namely, my new camera and lenses don’t let me get right up close to what I want to photograph. And my numerous discussions with camera salespersons always fall short. Nobody seems to understand that I want to smoosh my lens into the flower. I want to be close to take close-up photos. If my camera lens were a microscope optical, I want to be at 100x and all the way against the glass slide. Maybe it’s the scientist in me. Or maybe it’s that I think photography should be an experience, not a technology.

So I rented a 60mm macro lens. Not a 105mm lens, mind you, despite the salesperson’s insistence that 105mm is the epitome of macros. A longer focal length just means I can stand further away from that flower and still get a close-up shot; no smooshing necessary. That comes in really handy when photographing flighty insects, I’m sure, plus you don’t interfere with the lighting of your shot, because being further away means you’re less likely to cast a shadow over your subject. But my agenda was different, and no amount of kibitzing could convince me.

And, of course, what do you think the first thing I try my new lens on are? That’s right, flighty insects. And I fussed and fretted, sighed and swore during the entire experience, utterly let down by the macro lens and it’s inability to live up to my preconceived, misguided notions of how it should work. Still, I did get some photos I thoroughly enjoy out of it.

Owl butterfly.

(Above and below) My dad took these photos after I almost threw my camera through the window. I mentioned I got a little frustrated, right?

My favorite of the day: the atlas moth.

My dad liked the rice paper butterflies.

Proboscis!

Like the good sport that I am, I decided to give the macro lens one last shot before I was due to return it. I took a different approach this time, knowing now that I had some learning to do prior to heading back out into the field. I found Roie Galitz’ tutorial the most helpful.

Aside from the technicalities, however, I needed to be re-inspired to pick up the camera again, and I’ve found in the past that I can rely on certain photographers to soothe my insecurities and rediscover my motivation. This time around it was Ken Rockwell: What Makes a Good Photo and most importantly FART for Great Pictures.

Settings-wise, I switched to manual focus and cranked up the ISO as needed (I’m still a disgruntled and reluctant flash user). Mentality-wise, I slowed down and tapped into how I used to take photos, waiting for something to jump out at me and demand attention rather than razing the countryside only to sort through loads of photo garbage later. It worked. I think I kind of, maybe, sort of like photography again.