Photography

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toureiffel

While I’m recovering more slowly than I’d like from some minor eye surgery, reading is too much of a chore; but searching for stuff isn’t. So here’s a list of articles and postings leveraging public photos I’ve shared, Creative Commons licensed to require only attribution. Always interesting to see where these turn up:

  1. Why Indigenous Civil Resistance has a Unique Power By Molly Wallace, originally published by Waging Nonviolence. The photo is of melting tundra somewhere in Canada.
  2. Suicide or Murder? A Young Woman Investigates Her Mother’s Tragic Death, by Sarah Mangiola in The Lineup. The photo is of a bathtub in Nevada.
  3. Upheaval Dome Located in Canyonlands National Park, in The Earth Story. The photo is of the actual impact crater, which isn’t a dome, or caused by upheaval.
  4. House panel rejects Trump’s Great Lakes cuts, by Greg Hinz in Crain’s. The photo is from this set here.
  5. JULY 2017 STAMPS – MISSISSIPPI GULF COAST NHA EXPANDS THEIR PASSPORT PROGRAM, in Parkasaurus. The photo is of Lake Perris in this set here.
  6. The Kiglapait Mountains, in Wikipedia. Very distinctive, they look to me no less like an impact crater than does the Upheaval Dome. Here’s the photo set with both photos that show in Wikipedia.
  7. Things to do in Greenwich Village this Week, in City Guide. (The photo is from this album here.)
  8. These 13 Aerial Views Of Baltimore Will Leave You Mesmerized in OnlyInYourState. (I think mine is from this album.)
  9. Because my eyes are failing now, more are here, here, here, here and here.

And that’s all just since June.

2017_07_29_70th_birthday_002

The scene above is what greeted me when I arrived at what I expected to be a small family dinner last night: dozens of relatives and old friends, all with of my face.

For one tiny moment, I thought I might be dead, and loved ones were gathered to greet me. But the gates weren’t pearly. They were the back doors of Rosys at the Beach in Morgan Hill last night. Rosy is one of my five sisters in law. She and most of her sibs, including their two additional brothers, their kids and grandkids were there, along with many friends, including ones I’ve known since North Carolina in the early ’70s.

More about it all later (since I’m busy with continuing festivities). In the meantime I want to thank everybody, starting with my wife, who did such a great job of making the whole evening wonderful. Also for operating in complete faith that I would be clueless to the secrecy involved.

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If you shoot photos with an iOS device (iPhone or iPad), you’re kinda trapped in Apple’s photography silos: the Camera and Photos apps on your device, and the Photos app on your computer. (At least on a Mac… I dunno what the choices are for Windows, but I’m sure they’re no less silo’d. For Linux you’ll need an Android device, which is off-topic here.)

Now, if you’re serious about photography with an iThing, you’ll want to organize and improve your photos in a more sophisticated and less silo’d app than Photos.app—especially if you want to have the EXIF data that says, for example, exactly when and where a photo was shot:

exifexample

This tells me I shot the photo at 4:54 in the afternoon in Unterschleißheim, München: at Kuppinger Cole’s EIC (European Identity and Cloud) Conference, not long after I gave a keynote there. (Here’s video proof of that.) Here I was experimenting with shooting the inside of a glass with my phone.

If you copy a photo by dragging it out of Photos, you lose the EXIF data: all you’ll have is an image that appears to have been created anew when you dragged it over.

So, to pull photos off your iOS device with the EXIF data intact, you have two choices.

One is to use Image Capture, which will import them directly to whatever directory you like. (If it works, which it doesn’t always do. At least for me.)

The other is to use Photos. Your Mac and iOS device are defaulted to use Photos, so you’re kinda stuck there unless you intervene with Image Capture or change a bunch of prefs.

Anyway, I’ve found just two ways to get original shots out of the Photos app, and want to share those in case one or more of ya’ll also want your iShot photos with all the metadata included.

First way…

Find the library of photos (in Pictures/PhotosLibrary…), then expose its “package contents” (by right- or control-clicking on that library), and then copy the photos out of the directory there, which (credit to Apple) is organized by date (/Masters/YYYY/MM/DD). With iPhoto and older versions of Photos this was the only choice.

Second way…

“Export Unmodified Originals…” under Export in Photos’ File menu. There is no keyboard command for this. (The other choice in that menu is to “Export [some number of] Photos.” This has a 3-character keyboard command, but does nothing different than just dragging the photos out of Photos to wherever, stripped of their EXIF metadata.)

When you do the second thing — choosing “unmodified originals” (which should just be called “originals”) — you encounter this dialog here:

screen-shot-2017-07-25-at-10-09-11-am

I’m a fairly technical guy, but this is opaque as shit. (FWIW, here’s the poop on IPTC as XMP.)

What should come first here is the dialog that actually follows this one if you just click on “Export”: a choice of where you want to put the photos. (If the dialog above comes up at all, it should be after you select the destination for exported photos.)

While we’re at it, Apple has another value-subtract in the latest Photos (Version 1.0.1 (215.65.0) in my case): no obvious way to automatically delete photos from the iOS device after they’re imported. In prior versions there was a little checkbox for that. Now that’s gone. Far as I can tell, the only way to get rid of photos on my iPhone is to go into the Photos app there, select what I want to kill, and delete them there. Not handy.

Back in Image Capture, it is possible to delete photos automatically. But you have to dig a bit for it. Here’s how: when you click on the name of your device you’ll see a little panel in bottom left corner the window that looks like this:

screen-shot-2017-07-25-at-2-14-29-pm

It defaults to Photos, with “Delete after import” un-clicked. (I clicked on mine.) Then, if you click on the pop-down thing, you get this:

screen-shot-2017-07-25-at-2-16-32-pm

I choose Image Capture. In fact I hadn’t heard about AutoImporter.app until now. When I look for it, I find something called Automater.app (not Autoimporter). Look at that link to find what it does. Looks good, but also pretty complicated.

Anyway, that’s where you at least have the option to delete after importing. Unfortunately it doesn’t work. At least for me. Everything I import doesn’t get deleted from the phone.

But maybe this much is helpful to some of the rest of ya’ll in any case.

 

2017-03-27_subwayphones

shot this picture with my phone on the subway last night, while no less absorbed in my personal rectangle than everyone else on the subway (and I do mean everyone) was with theirs.

I don’t know what the other passengers were doing on their rectangles, though it’s not hard to guess. In my case it was spinning through emails, texting, tweeting, checking various other apps (weather, navigation, calendar) and listening to podcasts.

We shape our tools and then they shape us. That’s was and remains Marshall McLuhan‘s main point. The us is both singular and plural. We get shaped, and so do our infrastructures, societies, governments and the rest of what we do in the civilized world. (Here’s an example of all four of those happening at once: People won’t stop staring at their phones, so a Dutch town put traffic lights on the ground. From Quartz.)

Two years from now, most of the phones used by people in this shot will be traded in, discarded or re-purposed. But will we remain just as tethered to Apple, Google, Facebook, Amazon, telcos and the other feudal overlords* that sell us our rectangles and connect to the world? (*A metaphor we owe to Bruce Schneier.)

The deeper question is whether we’ll be dependent serfs to sovereigns with silos or self-sovereign as free-range human beings in truly open societies.

The answer will probably be some combination of both. In the meantime, however, one clear need is for greater independence and agency, at least at the individual level. (There are similar needs at the social, political and economic spheres as well, but let’s keep this personal.)

Obsolescence will help.

Within the next two years (just like the last two and the two before that), most phones will do less old-fashioned telephony, text, audio and video, and much more cool (and perhaps scary) new shit (VR, AI, IA, CX and other two-letter acronyms, to name a few off the top of my head and my screen).

Just as surely they’ll also give us new ways to shape what we do and be shaped as well. Perhaps by then mass media will finish getting turning into the mess media it actually is already, though we don’t call it that yet.

One big Hmm is What comes after phone use spreads beyond ubiquity (when most of us have multiple rectangles)?

Everything gets obsolesced, one way or another. That doesn’t mean it goes away. It just means something else comes along that’s better for the main purpose, while the obsolesced tech still hangs around in a subordinated, subsumed or specialized state. Print did that to script, Radio did that to print, TV did it to radio, and the Net is doing it to damn near every other medium we can name, subsuming them all and stretching their effects to the absolute limit by eliminating the distances between everything while pushing costs toward zero. (See The Giant Zero for more on that.)

Thus, while all our asses still sit on Earth in physical space, our digital selves float weightlessly in a non-space with no gravity or distance. Since progress is the process by which the miraculous becomes mundane, we already experience these two states non-ironically and all at once. Even this isn’t new. Here’s what I wrote about it in The Intention Economy, published in 2012:

Story #1. It’s 2002, and the kid is seven. As always, he’s full of questions. As sometimes happens, I don’t have an answer. But this time he comes back with a simple demand:

“Look it up,” he says.

“I can’t. I’m driving.”

“Look it up anyway.”

“I need a computer for that.”

“Why?”

Story #2. It’s 2007, and we are staying overnight in the house of an old family friend. In a guest bedroom is a small portable 1970’s-vintage black-and-white TV. On the front of the TV are a volume control and two tuning dials: one for channels 2-13, the other for 14-83. The kid examines the device for a minute or two and says, “What is this?” I say it’s a TV. He points at the two dials and asks, “Then what are these for?”

Progress is how the miraculous becomes mundane. The beauty of stars would be legend, Emerson said, if they only showed through the clouds but once every thousand years. What would he have made of commercial aviation, a system by which millions of people fly all over the globe, every day, leaping continents and oceans in just a few hours, while complaining of bad food and slow service, and shutting their windows to block light from the clouds below so they can watch a third-rate movie with bad sound on a tiny screen?

The Internet is a sky of stars we’ve made for ourselves (and of ourselves), all just a few clicks away.

McLuhan says the effects of every new medium can be understood through four questions he calls a tetrad, illustrated this way:

250px-mediatetrad-svg

Put a new medium in the middle and then sort effects into the four corners by answering a question for each:

  1. What does the medium enhance?
  2. What does the medium make obsolete?
  3. What does the medium retrieve that had been obsolesced earlier?
  4. What does the medium reverse or flip into when pushed to extremes?

These are posed as questions because they should help us understand what’s going on, not so we can come up with perfect or final answers. There can be many answers to each question, all arguable.

So let’s look at smartphones. I suggest they—

  • Enhance conversation
  • Obsolesce mass media (print, radio, TV, cinema, whatever)
  • Retrieve personal agency (the ability to act with effect in the world)
  • Reverse into isolation (also into lost privacy through exposure to surveillance and exploitation)

don’t think we’re all the way into any of those yet, even as every damn one of us in a subway rewires our brains in real time using rectangles that extend our presence, involvement and effects in the world. Ironies abound, invisible, unnoticed. We all smell something, but perhaps it’s best that don’t know it’s countless frogs boiling, all at once.

Item: every subway station in New York and Boston now has cellular service, and many (at least in New York) have public Wi-Fi as well. But New York is still behind London, Paris and Boston in full deployment, because there is mobile phone and data service in the tunnels under those cities and not just in the stations.

So here’s another question: what will put smartphones in that lower right box?

I don’t have answers; I’m just sure there will be some—and that we’ll have passed Peak Phone when they come.

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BluecutFireTo get away from the heat today—into a little less heat and an excuse to exercise, I drove up to Mt. Wilson, where I visited the Observatory and walked around the antenna farm there. As it happened, the Bluecut Fire was also visiting the same San Gabriel Mountains, a few miles to the east at Cajon Pass. Starting at 10:36 in the morning, it was past 10,000 acres with 0% containment by the time I observed it in the mid to late afternoon.

Here’s a photo set. If anybody wants to use any of them, any way they please, feel free.

The view here is to the east, along the spine of the range, across 10,064-foot (3068m) Mt. San Antonio, also known as Old Baldy. I like to ski there (at Mt. Baldy) in the winter. Nothing like skiing nearly two miles up, looking down on 20 million people enjoying subtropical weather. The lifts are open in the summer (for zip-lining), so you can get up there and watch the fire from a closer (but safe) vantage, I assume. Check first.

 

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A photo readers find among the most interesting among the 13,000+ aerial photos I've put on Flickr

This photo of the San Juan River in Utah is among dozens of thousands I’ve put on Flickr. it might be collateral damage if Yahoo dies or fails to sell the service to a worthy buyer.

Flickr is far from perfect, but it is also by far the best online service for serious photographers. At a time when the center of photographic gravity is drifting form arts & archives to selfies & social, Flickr remains both retro and contemporary in the best possible ways: a museum-grade treasure it would hurt terribly to lose.

Alas, it is owned by Yahoo, which is, despite Marissa Mayer’s best efforts, circling the drain.

Flickr was created and lovingly nurtured by Stewart Butterfield and Caterina Fake, from its creation in 2004 through its acquisition by Yahoo in 2005 and until their departure in 2008. Since then it’s had ups and downs. The latest down was the departure of Bernardo Hernandez in 2015.

I don’t even know who, if anybody, runs it now. It’s sinking in the ratings. According to Petapixel, it’s probably up for sale. Writes Michael Zhang, “In the hands of a good owner, Flickr could thrive and live on as a dominant photo sharing option. In the hands of a bad one, it could go the way of MySpace and other once-powerful Internet services that have withered away from neglect and lack of innovation.”

Naturally, the natives are restless. (Me too. I currently have 62,527 photos parked and curated there. They’ve had over ten million views and run about 5,000 views per day. I suppose it’s possible that nobody is more exposed in this thing than I am.)

So I’m hoping a big and successful photography-loving company will pick it up. I volunteer Adobe. It has the photo editing tools most used by Flickr contributors, and I expect it would do a better job of taking care of both the service and its customers than would Apple, Facebook, Google, Microsoft or other possible candidates.

Less likely, but more desirable, is some kind of community ownership. Anybody up for a kickstarter?

[Later…] I’m trying out 500px. Seems better than Flickr in some respects so far. Hmm… Is it possible to suck every one of my photos, including metadata, out of Flickr by its API and bring it over to 500px?

I also like Thomas Hawk‘s excellent defense of Flickr, here.

 

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Oil from the Coal Oil Seep Field drifts across Platform Holly, off the shore of UC Santa Barbara.

Oil from the Coal Oil Seep Field drifts across Platform Holly, off the shore of UC Santa Barbara.

Oil in the water is one of the strange graces of life on Califonia’s South Coast.

What we see here is a long slick of oil in the Pacific, drifting across Platform Holly, which taps into the Elwood Oil Field, which is of a piece with the Coal Oil Point Seep Field, all a stone’s throw off Coal Oil Point, better known as UC Santa Barbara.

Wikipedia (at the momentsays this:

The Coal Oil Point seep field offshore from Santa Barbara, California isa petroleum seep area of about three square kilometres, adjacent to the Ellwood Oil Field, and releases about 40 tons of methane per day and about 19 tons of reactive organic gas (ethane, propane, butane and higher hydrocarbons), about twice the hydrocarbon air pollution released by all the cars and trucks in Santa Barbara County in 1990.[1]The liquid petroleum produces a slick that is many kilometres long and when degraded by evaporationand weathering, produces tar balls which wash up on the beaches for miles around.[2]

This seep also releases on the order of 100 to 150 barrels (16 to 24 m3) of liquid petroleum per day.[3] The field produces about 9 cubic meters of natural gas per barrel of petroleum.[2]

Leakage from the natural seeps near Platform Holly, the production platform for the South Ellwood Offshore oilfield, has decreased substantially, probably from the decrease in reservoir pressure due to the oil and gas produced at the platform.[2]

On the day I shot this (February 10), from a plane departing from Santa Barbara for Los Angeles, the quantity of oil in the water looked unusually high to me. But I suppose it varies from day to day.

Interesting fact:

  • Chumash canoes were made planks carved from redwood or pine logs washed ashore after storms, and sealed with asphalt tar from the seeps. There are no redwoods on the South Coast, by the way. The nearest are far up the coast at Big Sur, a couple hundred miles to the northwest. (It is likely that most of the redwood floating into the South Coast came from much farther north, where the Mendicino and Humboldt coastlines are heavily forested with redwood.)
  • National Geographic says that using the tar had the effect of shrinking the size of Chumash heads over many generations.
  • There are also few rocks hard enough to craft into a knife or an ax anywhere near Santa Barbara, or even in the Santa Ynez mountains behind it. All the local rocks are of relatively soft sedimentary kinds. Stones used for tools were mostly obtained by trade with tribes from other regions.

Here’s the whole album of oil seep shots.

subway-speedtest

At the uptown end of the 59th Street/Columbus Circle subway platform there hangs from the ceiling a box with three disks on fat stalks, connected by thick black cables that run to something unseen in the downtown direction. Knowing a few things about radio and how it works, I saw that and thought, Hmm… That has to be a cell. I wonder whose? So I looked at my phone and saw my T-Mobile connection had five dots (that’s iPhone for bars), and said LTE as well. So I ran @Ookla‘s Speedtest app and got the results above.

Pretty good, no?

Sure, you’re not going to binge-watch anything there, or upload piles of pictures to some cloud, but you can at tug on your e-tether to everywhere for a few minutes. Nice to have.

So I’m wondering, @TMobile… Are those speeds the max one should expect from LTE when your local cell is almost as close as your hat?

And how long before you put these along the rest of the A/B/C/D Train routes? (The only other one I know is at 72nd, a B/C stop.) Or the rest of the subway system? In Boston too? BART? (Gotta hit all my cities.)

Meanwhile, thanks for taking care of my Main Stop in midtown.

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davy1

Live as if you were to die tomorrow. Learn as if you were to live forever.
— Mahatma Gandhi

I’m not sure if Gandhi actually said that. Somebody did. My best human chance of finding who said it — or at least of gaining a learned enlargement on the lesson — would have been David Sallis. “Big Davy” didn’t know everything, but he came closer than anybody else I know, and he was a living exemplar of Gandhi’s advice.

Davy’s answer would have been knowing, clever and enlarged by a joke, a wild story or both. Alas, I can’t ask him, because he died last Friday of a stroke he suffered a few days earlier. He was just 56, and is survived by his wife Margaret and daughter Rosie —

mararet-and-rosie

— both of whom he adored absolutely — and by countless friends and colleagues who remain shocked and saddened by his passing.

I caught a telling example of how much Davy knew when he was visiting in Santa Barbara for the first time a couple years ago, and we took a long walk downtown. Observing the distinctive typeface of the city’s street signs, he described in depth its origin and design elements. I don’t remember what he said, except that the typeface, like the town, was of regional Spanish provenance. Now when I look online, all I can find about the typeface is that it’s called “Mission,” and lives in no standard font library. Whether or not Davy knew more than the rest of the world on the subject, it was totally in character that he might.

Davy didn’t like it when I told other people he was a maths genius. A stickler for accuracy, he said he was taught by some real ones, at Imperial College and elsewhere. But while he might not have been their equal, he was wickedly smart on the topic. One evening I saw that demonstrated at a bar in Silicon Valley. Davy was sitting at a table with another maths whiz, talking about how to solve some particularly vexing problem. Pausing in the midst of the conversation, Davy folded a napkin several ways at various angles and pushed it across the table to the other guy, who said “That’s it!” and looked back at Davy in amazement. Davy returned a look of agreement with one raised eyebrow and a wry smile. It was an expression that at once said both that he had won and this was all in fun — and “Isn’t it great that we’re both learning something here?” Here’s a photo I shot of the scene:

davy2

Davy was also a lover and player of music. Here he is on a guitar he brought to our house on a visit:

davy3

Davy’s tastes were wildly eclectic and refined. That guitar is an Erlewine headless Lazer — the same one played by Johnny Winter. At the time it was on its way to joining Davy’s extensive collection of vintage saxophones and guitars of every kind, any of which he might pick up and wail away on at a moment’s notice. He could hold forth on Bach and punk with equal authority, and had forgotten more about Frank Zappa than all but a few will ever know.  Here he is with our friend Robert Spensley (another fabulous musician), in their Zappa shirts:

davy-robbie

Davy became instant friends with my wife and I when we met in London in May 2013, at a lunch with a handful of colleagues at Visa Europe, which employed his consulting services for many years. It was Davy who brought VRM (subject of my work with the Berkman Center) to the company’s attention, and who had been the main instigator of the gathering.

Suspecting that we might be among the few who would know a world-changing business and technical hack when we saw one, he shared with us plans for Qredo, an architecture for sending and sharing data securely and privately between parties who could also, if they chose, connect anonymously — and then selectively disclose more information as purposes required. Qredo eventually became a startup, and I served through its formative months on the company board, visiting often to Richmond, Davy’s beloved home town. Here he is, describing how Qredo fit into some VRM contexts :

davy-whiteboard

Yet what I love and remember best about Davy was how much fun he was as a companion — at work on Qredo, in conversation at pubs and in other convivial settings, on walks in Richmond and around London, and over countless meals in places both fun and fine. To all those occasions Davy brought the most irrepressible inner child I have ever known in an adult human being. Here is a small collection of shots that show our boy at work and play:

Screen Shot 2015-11-24 at 2.00.49 PM

Since he left I haven’t gone ten minutes without lamenting how much his absence lessens the world. The one solace I find is knowing how much larger he made the world when he was with us.

For those able to attend, a ceremony and burial will be held on Monday, 30 November, 11 AM at Richmond Cemetery.

Sacramento SunriseMade a dawn run to the nearby Peets for some dry cappuccinos, and was bathed in glow on my return by one of the most spectacular sunrises I have ever seen. It was post-peak when I got back (to the place where I’m staying in Gold River, California), but with some underexposure and white balance tweaking, I was able to get the shots in this set here.

Alas, the shot above is not in that set. It’s a screen shot I took of an adjusted raw file that Adobe Photoshop CS6 simply refused to save. “The file could not be created,” it said. No explanation. I checked permissions. No problem there. It just refused. I just checke, and the same thing happens with all files from all directories on all drives. Photoshop is suddenly useless to for editing RAW files. Any suggestions?

[Later…] An Adobe forum provided the answer here. All better now.

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