In this issue

1. My image of the week

2. Frontispiece

3. The Treasure Chest of Memory

4. A Chestnut that deserves to be thrown away

5. Fevered Mind Links (to make your Sunday Morning coffee go cold)

6. End Papers

My image of the week

Frontispiece

Foreword

This weeks' newsletter has taken something of a different path.

As it always does, come to think of it.

It finds its own way.

I was looking forward to sharing some gorgeous bird photography (no, not my own, as I don't have any yet). However, that will be next week. And believe me, these are quite extraordinary.

No, this week, I want to take time to honour a dear friend's passing—more about that below.

And that old thing about the best camera to buy has resurfaced from the grave.

So a little about that as well.

The Treasure Chest of Memory

True treasures

Tucked away in my garage is a large plastic storage bin full of photographs of my family's ancestry and whakapapa.

They date back to 1840 and are the product of my Auntie Dawn's painstaking acquisitiveness. And now our family has a taonga, a treasure that is priceless and timeless.

I imagine you have something similar.

You see, I think we tend to take it for granted and ignore the importance of our journey until Life suddenly reminds us of our mortality.

Did you know that the mortality rate amongst human beings is 100%?

On Thursday morning, my dear friend Gail Imhoff (Ngāti Rangi ki Raetihi) messaged me.

"It would be lovely to have a quick talk," she said. "Can you call me when you are free?"

Of course.

"I just wanted to catch you before I headed away. I am off on a trip down the awa (Whanganui river) for four days, so I thought catching up before I go would be great."

We talked for maybe twenty minutes and then finished with her promising to ring me when she got home this coming Monday night.

On Friday evening, a mutual friend from Porangahau rang me.

"Have you heard about Gail?"

No. What has happened?

"They called the helicopter to take her to hospital, but she died on the way."

Whaaat? I couldn't believe it. Has Gail passed?

I sat there in shock.

Gail and I go back a long way. If you were to ask me, I couldn't tell you when we first became friends, although I think it may have been when I was speaking at the PSNZ Convention in Whanganui. Maybe even before.

Over the years, we became very close friends. We travelled together, visiting out of the way places like Maunga Pohatu and Parihaka. Whenever I travelled north, inevitably, I would turn left at Bulls, spend some time in the temepara at Ratana, then wind up at her place for a night or two. We would talk and discuss and share a few drinks as friends do. I would do my best to help her with her photography and butt my head against a brick wall (!), trying to improve her understanding of Photoshop Lightroom.

She took me up the river and showed me her marae at Ranana. After that, we visited Hiruharama (Jerusalem), and she was always sharing her knowledge and passion for the river and its people.

One day she took me to the marae at Kai Whaiki and told me the back story of the waiata Te Aroha and how it had come about in that place.

We stood in the mysterious fog on Gentle Annie and found a doorway through to the past.

When I arrived, inevitably we would go down to the mole to watch the river flowing out into the Taranaki Bight. It was a place she loved dearly.

Gail was passionate about the river and her people. So inevitably, you could find her at a hui or tangi, carefully recording the lives of the people. Over time she built up an enormous photographic resource, a genuinely priceless taonga.

She was passionate about her photography, and I got used to her asking me for advice. It could be technical, it could be postproduction-related, or it might even be about the project she wanted to work on. And helping her was always fun. Her bubbly, outgoing personality made hanging around her an absolute joy.

And somehow, in her generous, open-hearted way, she inducted me into the life of Wanganui.

I remember when she came up to do one of my workshops in Hokianga. Afterwards, we made a hikoi wairua to Te Rerenga Wairua at Cape Reinga, the departure place of the spirits. I remember her grumbling when I prised her out of bed at three in the morning to make the short drive up to the Cape. We climbed Atua Peruperu, the small hill to the left of the path and waited for sunrise.

On the top is a small patch of bare grass. In a way, it is like standing on the white line in the middle of the highway, as the kehua (ghosts) of the departed travel back to Hawaiki Nui. We both stood there, feeling their diaphanous presences passing through us as they made their way down to the tree on the point.

We watched the two currents that flow up the country recombine, the wairua taane (male energy) of the West Coast, meeting the wairua waahine (female energy) of the east coast, spiralling back together to become one.

And then, once the sun had risen, following karakia and moteatea, we would drive back in search of breakfast.

Gail always wanted to come down and experience the clear, powerful energy of Fiordland.

Now I know that it won't happen for her on this cycle around the sun.

She was particularly proud of the header image for this section, and I know she won't mind me sharing it with you.

I can hear her cackling happily in the background.

Of all the thousands and thousands of pictures she made, this was the one of which she felt the proudest.

In her words:

Both of us talked about what happens to us as Māori when we pass. I would talk about the long journey to Te Rerenga Wairua, while she would remain stubbornly insistent that "our lot" arrive and depart from the mountain (Matua Te Mana/Ruapehu). I would equally stubbornly maintain that "our lot" journey to the tail of the fish. And we would have little verbal battles between her Whanganui mita (dialect) and my Ngāpuhi one, with its double vowels.

However, they were joyous disagreements, with each of us taking turns to bait the other.

So where is the lesson, if any, in all of this?

It came to me that perhaps the most important pictures we ever make are not the ones that feed our egos or win us awards or an invitation to exhibit at the Tate Gallery.

Perhaps the most important pictures are the simple ones of our lives and the things we care about. In a way, perhaps photography has only ever been about that. We are creating records to share with our descendants, long after we have disassembled, with our body going back to Papatuuaanuku, our mind to Ranginui, and our soul moving on to the next chapter.

We all have an enviable archive of the life through which we are passing, one which deserves to be passed on, rather than left to rot on cell phones or in hard drives.

Let us take those pictures, however banal we think they may be, and pass them on as a treasure to the future.

Moe mai, e Gail. Moe mai e hoa.

A chestnut that deserves to be thrown away

So what is the best camera?

I thought that one finally wandered over the horizon and shot itself.

However, I am going to try and shoo it away today.

Every so often, somebody approaches me about buying a new camera and wondering in which brand to invest their hard-earned $$$$. Perhaps they want to get a better result than they think their phone is giving them.

Don't overlook the photopower built into modern phones. I know a Fine Art Photographer who is doing nicely, selling 30" x 40" prints made from his phone (a Huawei, since you ask).

I have an answer:

 The best camera is the one you have.

A better camera won't make you a better photographer. Whatever 'better' means.

However, if you have received the green light from your Minister of Finance, and the $$$ are burning a hole in your wallet, here are some things to know.

First, you are buying into a system. It is an investment. You are going to be adding to it over time. Don't kid yourself that you won't. You are about to experience GAS (Gear Acquisition Syndrome). Some never recover.

So it is essential to make the right choice at the beginning.

The right choice for YOU.

Everybody has an emotional investment in their kit. And they will do their best to enrol you in their tribe—Canon, Sony, Leica, whatever.

However, no one makes terrible kit. They cant afford to.

It is all good stuff.

So, my advice, for what it is worth.

Go to your camera shop and try out everything in your price bracket. (That generally excludes Leica, unless Elon Musk is your dad).

Please pick them up. Play with them. See how the controls work for you. Try out the menus. Imagine yourself out there using this brand.

Does it feel good in your hand? Do you want to be out there, making pictures with it?

One of them will talk to you.

There is your new system.

It is that simple.

And try to avoid YouTube video reviews written by know-very-little wannabes eager to get your likes and subscribes so YT will pay them. Most have minimal experience.

I rate Kirk Tuck. An old-school pro who knows his stuff.

See the links below.

And whatever you are using and loving, it is the best kit for you.

Easy.

Fevered Mind Links (to make your Sunday morning coffee go cold)

The Deep and Twisted Roots of the American Yam — www.theringer.com

The American yam is not the food it says it is. How that came to be is a story of robbery, reinvention, and identity. A diligent cultivator, Brent Leggett will spare no effort to ensure a bountiful harvest, but even he can’t control the dirt.

The Visual Science Lab / Kirk Tuck — visualsciencelab.blogspot.com

"What the hell is this thing? It's an audio interface and pre-amplifier which adds the capability of using all kinds of professional microphones, which require connection via balanced XLR plugs, with your GH5."

From Cacao to Clitoria: Luscious 19th-Century French Botanical Illustrations of the Most Vibrant Flora of the Americas — www.brainpickings.org

To put our familiar lives in perspective and jolt us awake to the wonder of so much we have come to take for granted, let us picture this: It is the 1840s and you, like most of humanity, have never travelled more than a few miles beyond where you were born, have never met a person native to...

Infrared Vision — www.nationalgeographic.org

Infrared light was first discovered during a prism experiment conducted by Sir Frederick William Herschel in 1800. Infrared energy is emitted from any object with a temperature above absolute zero (-273.15 degrees Celsius or -459.67 degrees Fahrenheit or 0 degrees Kelvin).

Why a toaster from 1949 is still smarter than any sold today — www.theverge.com

My colleague Tom once introduced you to a modern toaster with two seemingly ingenious buttons: one to briefly lift your bread to check its progress, and another to toast it “a bit more.

Coriander-&-Lemon-Crusted Salmon with Asparagus Salad & Poached Egg Recipe — www.eatingwell.com

So delicious

How a Jellyfish and a Sea Slug Illuminate the Mystery of the Self — www.brainpickings.org

Walt Whitman wrote in contemplating identity and the paradox of the self.

End Papers

Breathing Light

When it came to me that a newsletter was the best way to use my talents to help bring light and peace to the world, I wondered what to name it.

It is rather like naming an artwork. Once you have named it, you have defined it.

And constrained it.

While naming/titling may be the last thing you do, in many ways, it is the most important since it will direct and inform a viewer's response to it. Therefore, it is a task not to be taken lightly.

So with this newsletter.

Breathing Light is the name that came to me, and it feels very fitting that it should name itself that.

Humanity is at a fork in the road. And each of us is faced with the choice of two paths.

We can choose to take the left path and put it on the dark cloak of fear and darkness.

Or we can take the right(hand) path and embrace light and love. Each of us is being asked to choose for ourselves and our Self. Our collective choice will determine our collective and individual future.

Let us choose wisely and look beyond our own needs.

On Gratitude.

A local Twitter influencer @frankritchie) asked a question this week:

What are you grateful for?

There were some beautiful answers.

Mine was this:

Breathing Light.

May your days be filled with love, truth and peace.

Ngaa mihi nunui arohaa me whakapono me te rangimarie ki a koe e te whaanau.