Is Velvia a Photoshop plug-in?

I've had fairly extensive dialogue with a photographer who's first SLR is the K10D. He was asking me about the color and look of a few of my photos using the 31mm lens. I made a reference to liking the lens, as it produced colors having the look of Velvia. He replied asking if Velvia was a plug-in, which got me thinking that many digital SLR users have never shot with film, and consequently have no basis to compare the color and contrast from cameras like the K10D and the beautiful images us old-timers produced with slide film like Fuji Velvia.

With this in mind, I've posted some photos I shot a few years ago in Sayulita, Mexico with my 40 year old Leica M4, the wonderful 35mm Summicron lens and Fuji Velvia 100 (ISO speed).

While the benefits of digital far outweigh what we were able to accomplish with film, there's no denying that film such as Velvia produces images with a look and feel that's very hard to replicate by our sensors today. Although I only take my M4 out once or twice a year to run some Velvia through it, I still enjoy the images this film produces. I'd suggest that anyone who's never shot with film, make a point to borrow a film camera and shoot a few roles of Velvia just for the experience. At the very least, you'll be able to say those scanned files are really Velvia, and not the plug-in effect (smile).

Happy Holidays and Best Wishes for the New Year.

December 21, 2007 - Not On Our Knees?

I’m thinking about something I read the other day in Leroy Sievers’ “My Cancer” blog on the NPR website. Leroy’s the TV news producer who’s been struggling against colon cancer that's advanced to his brain and spine, and whom Ted Koppel recently profiled in a documentary on cancer survivorship.

In his December 18th entry, Leroy’s musing on the subject of strength, and where we find it. “Where does the strength come from to keep fighting, even when the odds may be stacked against us?” he asks, rhetorically.

Then, he dips into his rich experience in news broadcasting to come up with a potent image: “Back when I was working in Latin America, one of the rules was that if you were stopped at a roadblock, you never got on your knees. Others, including journalists, had been forced to kneel. Then they were executed. So the thinking was, never get on your knees. Well, I may have bad days. I may be weakened by the pain. It may be all I can do to fight through the day. But with all of that, I'm sure as hell not getting on my knees. Ever.”

So speaks a man who’s had some grueling days of late, but who’s determined not to give up. I think he’s right. The only way to persevere as cancer survivors is for us to refuse to get on our knees.

Of course, from the Christian standpoint, I’d be quick to point out another meaning of the phrase, “on our knees.” Sometimes it refers to prayer. Now there’s an “on our knees” experience that doesn’t symbolize resignation or defeat. We’d all do well to get on our knees, in that sense.

Some look on prayer as a weakness. It’s the last resort. “Say your prayers,” growls the evil villain in the movies, before finishing off his victims. Yet, the most effective prayers are those uttered not out of panic, in extreme situations, but rather as a joyful, ongoing spiritual discipline.

Leroy’s right. We shouldn’t bend the knee to cancer. Not ever. Yet, there is one to whom we can bend the knee, without fear of being destroyed. It is this one who gives life, even in the face of a fearsome adversary like cancer.

“Happy are those whose strength is in you, in whose heart are the highways to Zion.

As they go through the valley of Baca they make it a place of springs; the early rain also covers it with pools.

They go from strength to strength...”

– Psalm 84:5-7a