A year ago, on October 22, I posted about my transition to Nikon. It’s taken me that long to write something that gear-ish again. With my transition to Nikon began a relationship with Sigma that I’ve been waiting to elaborate on. Now, as I near the end of that year, seems a good time to talk about the lenses I’ve been using and what I think about them. For those of you who’ve been clamouring for this post for 11 months, thanks for your patience.

When Sigma knocked on my door I was no stranger to their lenses, having used their 24-70/2.8 EX and 70-200/2.8 EX for early professional work. The reasons I decided to use their lenses again were simple ones. First, it gave me a chance to get into the Nikon system – when you get a box filled with Nikon-mount lenses to use, it’s easier to afford the bodies. Second, and more importantly, was my desire to walk the talk on this Gear Is Good, Vision Is Better stuff I’ve been spouting for so long. The fact is, the vast majority of my readers are not professional photographers. They’re enthusiastic amateurs of all stripes and seasons and most of them can’t simply buy the very best Nikon or Canon glass. I wanted to make images I was proud of, with gear that’s generally less expensive. I wanted to remind my readers- and show them – that the best top-shelf gear wasn’t necessary for creating beautiful work.

Sigma 24-70/2.8 EX DG

For the last year, I’ve shot mostly with Sigma’s 15mm fisheye, 20/1.8EX, 24-70/2.8EX, 85/1.4EX, and 70-200/2.8EX – along side my own Nikon 300/2.8, 24mm PC-E, and 14-24/2.8, and Zeiss 50/1.4. Those were the lenses I used day-in and day-out, though there was a long hiatus while I was recovering from the accident and not making photographs.

What do I think of the lenses? If you’re tempted to skip to the end, here it is: I never once used the Sigma lens and thought, “Man, this photograph would be more beautiful, or more compelling, had I shot it with a more expensive Nikon lens.” Not once. For the most part my Sigma lenses performed really well, created beautiful images, and usually (though not always) for much less than the top-shelf Nikon or Canon equivalents. Beauty is in the photograph, not the gear. Lenses matter, but even today’s kit lenses are capable of creating beautiful photographs. I’m not a pixel-peeper, and never have been, so please don’t ask about the best apertures for edge-to-edge sharpness. I just don’t know. If I don’t notice the loss of sharpness, it doesn’t matter to me. And if the best thing people say about my work is, “Wow, it sure is sharp,” then I’ve failed and the lens is irrelevant.

Sigma 24-70/2.8 EX DG

Would I use these lenses for professional work? That kind of depends on what you mean by “professional.” By my definition, I did, and I would again. But remember, value is not in how inexpensive something is, but how much you get out of what you paid. In the future I will be replacing some, but not all, of the Sigma lenses – notably the 24-70 and the 70-200. Those are my go-to lenses for much of my work and I’d happily pay more to replace them with the Nikon versions. Why? First, neither lens is sealed. When I last returned from Africa, my D3s sensors were filthier than any sensor I’ve ever seen. I was working in some of the most punishing conditions I’ve ever been in and sealed lenses would have made a huge difference.  If you aren’t working in these conditions, it could be a total non-issue. After-all, not even all Canon L-series lenses, are sealed. But to me, for these two lenses, it matters. Secondly, the build quality just doesn’t measure up, and I punish my gear, so durability matters. The body of the Sigma 70-200/2.8 EX, for example is made largely of plastic. It’s lighter, for sure, but I’ve less confidence in it than I would a lens made with more weight. In the field I need my gear to be more like a tank than a toy. But if you don’t need this kind of tankishness, then you might benefit from the saved dollars and the lighter weight. Those are my own reasons, but “horses for courses” as they say, and you need to decide what’s important to you. For many of you budget may prevent you from buying the top-shelf Nikon or Canon lenses, but you’ll get huge value from a fast, constant-aperture, zoom lens that makes beautiful photographs. If this is the case, Sigma’s got some great lenses for you.

The three photographs posted here were all made with the Sigma 24-70/2.8 EX DG. I’ll eventually replace it, but not because of image quality.

Sigma 24-70/2.8 EX DG

Would I continue to shoot with these lenses? I would and I will. Absolutely. They won’t be the lenses I go to when I need them to beat the sand and grit of the Kaisut Desert, but I’ll keep using them and recommending people consider Sigma, and take them for a test-drive when they can. Some of my favourite photographs from the past year were made with these lenses, and I’m grateful to Sigma for the chance to work with them. You can see some of those images, along with images of friends like Darwin Wiggett and Younes Bounhar on the Sigma Canada site HERE.

Caveat: This is a post about gear. So many of you will get all glossy-eyed. Worse: it’s not even camera gear. This is a post about the gear I’ve chosen to live with on the on-going (if not somewhat interupted) nomadic adventure with Jessie. You will be forgiven if you just move on, not everyone cares about field kitchens and rooftop tents.

In February 2011 I sold my stuff, handed in the keys to the condo and left Vancouver with some haste. Just couldn’t wait to hit the road. That rush also meant I left home on a bit of a wing and a prayer, so I’m re-kitting the truck. I might not be able to walk just now but I can dream & scheme and start getting ready. One of the best resources I stumbled on was Kanz Outdoors. Run by Harald Kanz, this outfitter sells some top-rated expedition gear with excellent customer service. My mother nearly passed out when the UPS guys arrived within days of my getting home from the hospital.

THE HEROES
My Autohome Columbus Variant rooftop tent (above on Jessie) has been amazing. I’ve slept some of the best sleeps of my life in this tent. My Western Mountaineering down sleeping bag is the most comfortable bag I’ve ever had. I could wear my Icebreaker clothing every day, and I did, right up until the Italian paramedics cut them from my broken little body when I had my accident. And when I asked Icebreaker if their warranty covered Italian EMTs with scissors, they said, “Not really” but replaced my clothes anyways. How’s that for fantastic service? My Patagonia H2No raingear rocks. Blundstone boots? Wouldn’t wear anything else.

A couple tiny Black Diamond ION headlamps slung over my rearview mirror mean I always have one, and the Black Diamond Titan (large) and Apollo (smaller) lanterns are amazing. The larger BD lantern takes D cells (4 of them!) so it’s get replaced by the Goal Zero Light-A-Life lanterns. My goal is to do this as sustainably as I possibly can for a vehicle-based trip. And for those looking at Jessie and thinking bad enviro-thoughts – she gives me 300 miles for a $50 tank of diesel, so she does extremely well! I’m also not powering an entire home.

My Virgin MiFi, while I was in the US, was awesome! Turned Jessie into a rolling WiFi hotspot for 5 devices. What’s not to love?! And while I only just got into the groove before the Italy trip, my 2 Hero GoPro HD cameras (mounted on Jessie in pics below) are SO, stinking cool, and infinitely mountable all over the Land Rover! I want one more. I have plans. Big plans.

THE DUDS & THE REPLACEMENTS
Rubbermaid ActionPackers to store my gear were really cheap and available, but they’re neither durable nor space efficient. I’ve replaced them with Zarges K470 aluminum cases, through Kanz Outdoors.

I had a small first aid kit and now looking long-term at this I’ve upgraded to a Denali Plus Wilderness Medical Kit from Wilderness Medical Systems . It’s not that I’m accident-prone or anything but, well, I tend to fall off walls and stuff. This kit ought to do me well, should I fall off a wall while holding it. I was going to get a kit to go into a Pelican 1600 EMT case but I’m trying to keep weight down. And, this’ll be a recurring theme, the customer service from the folks at WMS is amazing. I’ll be using them again.

The overly-trademarked PerfectFlow™ InstaStart™ Fold-N-Go™ Coleman™ stove was fine and worked well but for long-term travel and day-to-day living I wanted something more robust. I’ve replaced it with a Kanz Field Kitchen and stove that rocks so much it makes me smile. And if I want to hang it from a camel there are leather straps for that. And if I want to raft the Colorado, there’s a dry bag for that. Harald Kanz is the man, and this Field Kitchen is beautiful. And I’ll be getting a couple small refillable propane canisters, also from Kanz Outdoors. The small disposable, non-refillable, ones don’t sit well with me. While we’re talking Kanz, take a look at THIS and tell me it wouldn’t make a perfect field office! Add some foam and straps to hold laptops and harddrives down and you’ve got a perfect field office for post-production, etc. on the road. A perfect field office for someone with more space than I’ve got, but perfect all the same.

My no-name $300 12v fridge never worked. So it’s getting replaced with an Engel 35 which I’ve also ordered from Kanz. Putting ice in a cooler daily gets old, and when you’re carrying insulin as I am, and need cream for coffee, as I do, I need reliable protection from the heat.

Life on the road with cameras and ipads and laptops and lanterns means heavy power needs. I have two batteries in the Land Rover, one dedicated to powering gear, but pull over to camp for a couple days and you’ll want more power without turning the engine on. So I’ve picked up a couple solar panels, a solar generator, and an invertor, all from GoalZero, who is the first solar company I’ve seen to make this easy to understand. And their customer service is top notch. I wanted a specific package but I wanted flexible panels, not solid, and they made some suggestions and tweaks and made me my own package. A+ for the folks at GoalZero.

In addition to the new GoPro camera, I have finally picked up a BLUE-brand YETI USB-mic to record some things. I’m not going to give any hints, but this kind of mic seems like it might be just perfect for podcasts.

Inspiration is coming from Overland Journal, in part for the subject matter, and in part for the excellent writing and photography. And I finally tracked down a copy of The Vehicle-Dependent Expedition Guide. And speaking of tracking things down, I spent over a month without a hand-brake; the cable snapped just after San Francisco (probably because of San Francisco! Jessie and I nearly killed my editor, along with an $80,000 Mercedes sedan, on some of those hills) and I’ve just tracked down one of those too. So hurray for no more rocks as wheel chocks! (But you do need wheel chocks and THESE bad boys from ORTT are sweet! )

There will be more. The more entrenched in this adventure I become the more I simplify. Sadly that simplification often means getting rid of two or three things only to replace them with one that costs more. But I’m learning. Hoping to make it to Overland Expo in Arizona in 2012 and learn from the pros. If you’re coming let me know, we’ll get together for a meal and beer one evening. Otherwise, consider this the last of the Adventure-Geek-Out for a while.

I think we can all agree that this year went a little sideways. If things had gone to plan I’d have picked Jessie up in Atlanta over a month ago, spun through the Florida Keys, lingered for three weeks, then come up the Eastern seaboard, and back into Canada. By now I’d be heading east toward the Maritimes, finally to Newfoundland for the month of August, and onwards from there. Instead, Jessie is still in Atlanta and I’ll spend August in a rehab facility learning to walk again.

Ah, the clever plans of mice and men, eh? To be sure, it’s still been a hell of an adventure. But many of the things I wanted from it just never happened.

So we’re doing it again.

I had planned to drive Europe in 2012, but I’m sticking around a while, staying on the road, and seeking beauty on this continent for another year. It’ll be a while before I call Vancouver home again. A long while. Nomadic life agrees with me too much; I’m so much liking the idea that home is not a place, it’s people. I hope between now and then there are more chances to meet some of you for coffee, the odd meal, or just a chance encounter while we’re shooting the Golden Gate Bridge together. Give me a couple more months to get walking, and Jessie and I will be back out there, nomadic again.

As soon as I can, (late August?) I’m flying back down to Atlanta, putting the key in the ignition (where the hell are those keys, anyways?) and we’re driving back here to Ottawa to re-group. I’ve got a busy fall so between travels to Cambodia, Laos, Thailand, Mexico, Honduras, Argentina and Antarctica, I’ll have time to re-outfit her and get ready for the next stage, which is, for the most part, heading south again, to see the Florida Keys, then west and I’m planning to really, actually, no screwing around this time, spend some quality time in the West. Arizona. Utah. New Mexico. Wyoming. Colorado, California. I just missed too much this time. Had too little time to photograph what I had hope to, or meet the people I wanted to. Too rushed. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned this year, both in life and art – it’s to SLOW. DOWN.

In the few months on the road with Jessie, I was the most content I’ve been in years and years. In that perfect beautiful place where challenges slightly outstrip my comfort levels. Where all my clothes fit into one duffle bag. Where I woke up to the wilderness and the weather as the sun rose. Where my daily plans are heavily subject to serendipity. And I want to keep doing this. This adventure is too beautiful – even with the broken feet and cracked pelvis – not to keep at it and finish what I started. I’ve never seen with such clarity. Never breathed so deeply. Never met so many people out of the clear blue that I was just genuinely curious about and enjoyed.

THE PART OF THE POST THAT MATTERS
If the fall in Italy gave me one thing, it’s the reminder that life is short and desperately – unpredictably – fragile. Recovery hasn’t come easy, but then neither do our dreams. Whatever it means to you; keep living the dream. We’ve only got one life to live and you’re the only one who’s going to make it happen. Sure the days go by on their own, and too fast, but an intentional life, like a photograph, is something we make. Each day do something, ANYTHING, that gets you closer. Or stop doing something – anything – that stands in your way. If that means traveling the world, or taking the time to go make those photographs you’ve been thinking about, or finally teaching your daughter to use a camera, or finally printing and hanging your work for the world – and you – to see, do it today. Tomorrow is guaranteed to no one.

To change one’s life:  Start immediately.  Do it flamboyantly.  No exceptions.
~William James

A door in Jodhpur, photographed on my first trip to India. Images from that trip benefited me more than the best lens I could have bought or the newest camera, never mind the experience and life-long memories themselves.

I ran across a great article this morning on the Adventure Journal. Simply the premise was, “You don’t need all the latest gear. Oh, and by the way, the money you spent on that expensive piece of gear could have purchased a plane ticket.”

The article also quoted Let My People Surf by Patagonia founder Yves Chouinard, a book I finished recently: “Don’t spend money on gear. Spend it on plane tickets.”

Got me to thinking, especially on the heels of three podcasts interviews I did last week, all of them giving freedom to rant about gear-lust and our addiction to the toys. And that thinking led me to the B&H Photo site. I only visit on Saturdays now, because the ordering mechanism is closed for the Sabbath, giving my wallet a sabbatical as well. And then I went to StarAlliance.com. Here’s my math. ( Update:  I used Canon in these example because, while I choose Nikon, I am still much more familiar with Canon’s line-up. Nikon has its equivalents.)

Scenario #1 I Need The Best Stuff Out There

Canon 1Ds Mk III – $6,995
EF 70-200/2.8L IS II – $2,449
EF 16-35/2.8L II – $1,699
EF 85/1.2L II – $2.079

Total – $13,222

Scenario #2 I’d Rather Have Money Left Over to Photograph the WORLD

Canon 5D Mk II – $2,499.95
EF 70-200/4.0L – $669.00
EF 17-40/4.oL – $839.00
EF 85/1.8 – $419.00

Total – $4,426

The Difference? $8,796

And then I went to StarAlliance.com and priced out a Round The World ticket. From San Francisco to Paris to Nairobi to Mumbai to Bangkok to Melbourne to Tokyo and back to San Francisco.

Total with Taxes – $5,823

Still Left Over – $2,973. Almost $3000. Handy for hostels, taxis, food.

And the kicker? In no time that gear will be obsolete. Your memories and the photographs taken on 4 continents will last as long as you do. Experiences never get stolen, or go obsolete. And if you got a Canon 7D and settled for non-L-series lenses, you’d have at least another couple thousand to spend on your adventure.

I’m on a tear lately about gear, and you pros out there aren’t exempt either. Spending money on new work and personal projects will generally benefit your bottom line much more significantly, without the depreciation on gear, than the latest lens will.

Forget the shiny stuff, it gets tarnished fast. Put your camera into the bag and book a flight instead. Go make memories and photographs. Live. Buy the tickets.

Yesterday I posted a quick giveaway for a very limited – there is only one – Artist’s Print of Twilight I, Tahoe. Leave a comment on this post and one randomly-chosen reader has it signed and shipped to them, anywhere in the world. Just a comment with your name and email addy so I can notify you if you win. That post is HERE.

This March, I spent more time making photographs with my iPhone down the coast of Oregon than I did with my D3s and Pelican cases full of gear. Many of the images I made in those days are among the best of my recent photographs; unobstructed by all the gear I was more able to play. But not once did I simply point and shoot.

Point and shoot is an attitude, an approach to photography; it is not – nor to my mind should it be – a category of cameras. So while this post is more of my usual hair-splitting over semantics, I believe it’s important. It’s important because it says something about how we think about the tools we use and – more importantly – perpetuates the same kind of nonsense as the trumped up importance given to Pros. As in, Buy This Camera, Shoot Like a Pro. The implication is that we should want to shoot like a pro because to be a Pro is to be at the pinnacle of this art. I call bullsh*t. But that’s not my point.

When the Fuji x100 was announced there were mixed reactions, as they always are when a new piece of gear is released. We polarize so quickly on some of this stuff. Many of the reactions could most easily be summed up in a comment from a friend on Twitter this evening.  The x100 is just a $1200 point and shoot camera.

It struck me as a funny thing to say. And the more I thought about it seemed completely irrelevant. Not the comment, so much, but the fact that that comment should even mean something to me. And that something is: that’s serious money for a camera that’s not serious. Might not be what my friend meant, but it’s what I inferred and I’ve heard it elsewhere unambiguously.

So what makes a camera serious? Must it be a $3200 body with a $1800 lens? Does it need a certain sensor size? Must it be a DSLR? At the most basic our tools are boxes with a hole in them. Our media are time and light. We use optics to create a quality of focus and manipulate the geometry in the frame. We need to control the amount of light coming into the box, knowing that doing so with aperture and shutter allows other aesthetic effects. But as far as I know, beautiful photography has been created with pinhole cameras, antique rangefinders, and iPhones, as surely as a Ltd. Edition gold-plated Leicas and $10,000 pro-bodies have produced an astonishing quantity of crap. The recent enthusiasm towards plastic lens cameras (eg Holgas) is a great example. I’ve seen some incredible work created by photographers using the Holga and I’ve seen work I think we’d all agree was junk, even with a gracious and liberal allowance made in order to avoid being called a “snob”.

My x100 is a beautiful camera. It does everything my Nikon D3s does in terms of creating a simple, compelling photograph. It has constraints, to be sure, but I see those constraints as an opportunity for greater creativity, not less. I’m unlikely to serve clients with this camera, but I’m very likely to create work that I’m most proud of with it. And at no point would I describe my approach to photography, regardless of the camera I hold in my hands, as point and shoot.

Point and Shoot. The words imply automation. They imply a lack of intention and care. And to me those words trivialize the efforts to create something beautiful with these fundamentally simple and elegant boxes. To me it’s about the way we approach the entire art, however it is we do that. I guess my point is this; you can point and shoot, if you choose to, but your camera can not. Having a serious camera is not the point and never has been, because in the hands of an artists, a child’s toy will create beauty. Client needs aren’t the issue, that’s different. That has to do with the best tool for the job argument. My plea here is that we alone accept responsibility for creating something great, and we do it with the camera we most enjoy.

I suspect I’m naive and idealistic in hoping we’ll see an end to some of this nonsense anytime soon. It’s perpetuated by the same engines of commerce that want to convince every still photographer that their career is in peril unless they learn video – a completely different discipline and language. I’m probably banging my head against the wall, and I’m OK with that. Where I take it personally is when my friends, readers, and students -  people new to the craft and so full of enthusiasm – are convinced every 12 months to part with serious money because they’ve been convinced the newer, bigger cameras, are more serious. And they go from promise to promise. Red herring to red herring.They learn to divert what was once an enthusiasm for making photographs to an enthusiasm for better and better cameras. God forbid they should be caught making photographs with a point and shoot camera.

Get a camera you love to use. Make photographs you love. If that’s a simple, used, $50, beat-up 35mm camera, or a $700 iPhone, or a $10,000 Mamiya, just do what you love: make photographs. Leave the pointing and shooting for others. Your photographs are judged on their own merits, not the tool you used to create them.

Shooting portraits in the desert on the shores of Lake Turkana, Northern Kenya with a Nikon D3s, 300/2.8 VR II, and Gitzo Ocean Traveler. Photo Credit: Corwin Hiebert.

As many of you already know, my transition to Nikon happened much faster than I anticipated. I got a lot of curious emails and tweets about The Switch, but very little of the rabid fan-boy nonsense I worried I might get. Late last year I got two new Nikons, and last month sold all my Canon gear, sending it to good homes from Vancouver to Utah to Malaysia. I am now shooting Nikon only, with the exception of the Canon 5D and 17-40 lens still sitting in an Aquatech housing for underwater work.

Initially I took the cameras to New Zealand, loved working with them, and now, coming off an almost 4-week African adventure, I thought I’d finally give in to the questions about how I’m liking the new gear.

My first reaction surprised me, though it shouldn’t. I love, love the new gear. But now that I’ve shot with the best that Canon and Nikon offer I can honestly say I care even less than I once did about the brand wars. No brand will make you a better photographer, nor will the new Nikon D4x II or Canon 1Ds Mk XXI. You do that. Through long years and humble work and seeking good critical voices to listen to. So if I get even one question about whether my photographs are better now I swear I’ll publicly wrestle you to the ground and make you wear the Cone of Shame.

What do I love about the two Nikon D3s bodies I’m shooting with? They fit me better. I just like the way we work together. Buttons are where they belong for me. The shutter, and the rest of the camera feels more solid. It’s weighted in a way that I like. The low-light noise is amazing. They focus beautifully most of the time and when they don’t it seems simply to be the slightly slower Sigma lenses I’m using. But put the Nikon 300/2.8 VR II on there and wow! These bodies performed incredibly in the most gruelling conditions I’ve ever shot in, taking daily abuse in temperatures of up to 45C/113F and never failing after 2 weeks of brutal off-road bouncing around in bags with little padding. The sensors on both are pretty dusty right now, but that’s not their fault; it’s a mix of Sigma lenses that don’t seal at the body, and my too-casual attitude about tools being tools. I switched lenses more and was slower to put the cameras in bags this trip.

What else do I love? The same thing I’d have loved if this switch were from Nikon to Canon: the forced change of my creative process. Suddenly I’m having to think about my tools again and where I once might have chosen a series of settings out of habit, I’m forced, through unfamiliarity, to be very intentional about things. The discovery is a lot of fun and I think when you re-inject fun into your process you give the muse some room to dance.

Do I miss anything? Sure. I loved Canon’s big scroll-wheel on the back. I miss knowing where everything is without thinking. I miss my 85/1.2 lens. But really, no. A camera’s a camera and while I like working with these D3s bodies a whole lot, I’d be crazy if I told you they were “revolutionizing my photography” or finally allowing me to “shoot like a pro.” Ugh. Was it worth the switch? That’s a tough one to answer. For me, it was, but those reasons are unrelated to whether the cameras make better photographs. If that’s why you’re switching, save your money and spend your time making more photographs.

And what about Sigma? Sigmas lenses continue to surprise me. For the money, they perform beautifully. Yes, the 70-200/2.8 feels slower at times, and they don’t seal at the body like most of my Canon L lenses did. But their 85/1.4 and 20/1.8, for example, are sharp and create beautiful photographs. I got on board with Sigma because I like the idea of making photographs with a stable of lenses that are a little more financially accessible to the people I teach. And, to be honest, I’m a little tired of the whole “Well, sure, I could make great photographs if I had the new Nikon/Canon 10-200/2.0 VR III” nonsense. Work with what you have. Sigma, so far, has not let me down. Weirdly, I’ve had f/0 or f/92 show up as my f/stop a couple times but I think that’s just filthy contacts. Once the cameras and lenses are cleaned I’ll keep you posted.

Yes, there are cameras that allow us to meet client needs better, and some cameras are faster than others, so pragmatically one may be better than another for one person or one need, but I’m hoping we’re all becoming a little more savvy about the brand wars, a little more aware we’re being manipulated. I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again: photographs matter, brands don’t. I’d happily go back to Canon and keep photographing beauty as I see it. Right now I’m liking the Nikons, but folks, I’ve got a used D200 coming from a friend and I plan to use it to make beautiful photographs too and I’ll bet the farm no one looks at those photographs and says “Well I could make images like that too if I had a fancy obsolete D200.” It just ain’t the tools. So if you’re relying on a different brand, newer and shinier body, another fancy lens, or an HDR tutorial, you’re looking in the wrong place.

Before I send you off for the holidays and abandon you for Jamaica, I wanted to tell you about the New Zealand trip while it’s fresh in my mind.

I went to New Zealand with a hodge podge of impressions garnered from various sources: photographs, stories, and the tourism videos to end all tourism videos – The Lord of the Rings Movies. I went because I’d always wanted to go, and because I only had three weeks for my first trip to Australasia or Oceania or whatever they’re calling it now, and because of its size, Oz seems worth more time than that.

We booked a VW camper van, and like anything when The Legendary H is involved it spiraled out of control in a really fun way and when we got to the rental lot what I thought would be a small camper van was a massive RV. Our rolling home on wheels came with a learning curve, and after we’d emptied the fridge a couple times on sharp corners, we learned it could be locked. We ended in the ditch only once and in classic NZ fashion were pulled out moments later by beekeepers in full beekeeper gear and a flatbed loaded with buzzing hives. We spent most nights camped free in little places close to where I wanted to shoot that night and in the 5am early light.

Our first 5 days was spent on the North Island, the last 2 weeks spent on the South Island. If I were to do it again I’d do just the South Island; it seems to be more my kind of place – the scenery more dramatic, though none of it free of rolling pasture land and sheep. Man, the sheep! I’ve never seen such a sheep-dotted, fenced-in, green-hilled pastoral country in all my life. Favourite spots, hands-down, were Cape Foulwind (I could spend a couple days playing here), Milford Sound (touristy but in the rain it’s a magical place) and all of Fiordland National Park (bring bug repellent and the resolve not to let the Sandflies drive you insane.) Our two days kayaking in Doubtful Sound was awesome. Curio Bay was amazing too.

Nikon D3s, Sigma 24-70/2.8EX, 1/8 @ f/16, ISO 200, Singh Ray ND filters.

This trip was interesting for me because it was the first time shooting on Nikon gear, so there was alot of play involved, and the learning curve wasn’t so much steep as fun. I suspect you know me well enough by now to know I’m not about to go deep into the differences between Canon and Nikon. Beautiful photographs are beautiful photographs and only you know how you made them. But for me the switch to Nikon has been fun. The ergonomics suit me better, the focusing is great, and things like the accessibility of bracketing, a wider EV compensation, and a virtual horizon are a real benefit. But an interesting thing happened. I’ve now shot with the best that both Nikon and Canon offer. And you know what? The end result is still just a photograph.

I’m in the middle of writing a fourth book, and as promised, will tell you more when I can. But it’s less about photography and more about actual photographs. What photographs say and how they are read, what composition communicates, how to balance things, lots of visual language stuff.  And between the focus on photographic expression and this new gear, I’ve dug my heals in deeper on my brand neutrality. Photographs matter, brands don’t.

Part of that journey, and while we’re talking about brands, is my new relationship with Sigma. I shot on Sigma lenses for this trip, so now is a good time to talk about that. I took a 70-200/2.8, 85/1.4, 24-70/2.8, 20/2.8, and 15mm diagonal fisheye and shot with all of them.  So many of you have asked why I’d chose to go with Sigma instead of the top-shelf pro lenses from Nikon, and the answer’s not really complicated. First, Sigma lent me a stable of lenses so it was a no-brainer. But more than that. I am not a pixel-peeper. I never have been. What matters to me is the photograph, not the pixel-by-pixel analysis. So I thought it would be interesting to shoot with lenses I could comfortably recommend to people who don’t have the budget for top-shelf OEM lenses.

And you know what? I didn’t notice a difference in my images. Will these lenses last as long as some of the weather-proof sealed Canon L lenses? I don’t know. I’d guess pretty close, though the way i beat my gear around, you never know, and part of that is my fault. Some of the lenses stack up beautifully against their top-shelf pro-grade counterparts – the 85/1.4 is gorgeous. The 15mm fisheye rocks. The 20/2.8 is a new favourite. I never once felt I was missing something by not shooting on legendary Nikon glass. Will I get Nikon glass? Of course. At some point. Sigma has no tilt/shift lenses, and the Nikon ultra-wide looks pretty nice. I also need a 300/2.8 and could go either way – Sigma or Nikon. But bang for the buck, especially if you’re not a working photographer who beats the crap out of his gear, my experience with Sigma’s been solid (both now and in the past) and I’m looking forward to playing with them more. Might even get a low-end Nikon and shoot that just to prove again that while a high-end camera might make life easier and create images closer to client specs, it doesn’t mean the low-end stuff can’t create gorgeous, compelling, photographs. It’s time we chilled about all this brand stuff and got back to our first love – making and enjoying photographs.

Nikon D700, Sigma 70-200/2.8EX, 1/640 @ f/10, ISO 400

Anyways. 2010 is drawing to a close. My birthday is tomorrow and I’m joining family in Jamaica so you’re not likely to hear from me. I’ll check in if I can but feel free to just close the browser and enjoy your family and some time off. Thanks so much to all of you for the birthday and holiday wishes you’ve sent, and again my sincerest thanks for being part of my journey. It’s been an amazing year and your support of this blog, my books, and Craft & Vision has been humbling. Thank you so much. A very happy Christmas to those of you who celebrate it, and blessings for a full and peaceful 2011.

I am approaching this post with trepidation knowing what kind of strange misplaced fury these issues bring up in some people. If only some people put as much energy into their creative lives, eh? But you are not those people, so that’s why I’m not keeping this to myself. You folks are friends and deserve to know the reasons for my descent into madness. The horror,the horror, etc.

The Short Story.
I’m making a slow transition to Nikon. Nothing to see here. Move along, Citizen.

The Longer Story.
OK, first, let me tell you why I’m even talking about these issues. First, my motto for a long time has been Gear Is Good, Vision Is Better. Some people have latched on so strongly to the last part of that that any mention from me about gear has sent them into an existential funk from which they only recover when I post something about my creative angst. I like gear. Gear is, say it with me folks, good. Without gear we’d be sketching images on napkins. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. My criticism of the photography industry is in the way gear has been sold as a substitute of vision. It’s about the addiction to gear and the belief that it will make us better photographers. It won’t. However, gear is important. If it wasn’t all the people that holler at me about this stuff would be shooting with a Kodak Brownie or old 110 camera, but they aren’t.

Photographs Matter.
Gear is important because it creates the aesthetic which is the expression of our vision. Sensor size affects the look of the photograph. So does the speed and focal length and the quality of your optics. A Tilt/Shift lens does things your 50/1.8 can’t do and never will be able to do. Polarizers and tripods and all this stuff – it affects the image. But let’s remember – it’s the image that matters most, and therefore the tools of its creation also matter.

Brands do not matter.
I am not moving to Nikon because I like the logo better or stopped liking the red stripe of the Canon L-lenses. I am not moving to Nikon because they are cheaper or sexier. My move to Nikon doesn’t mean my Canon bodies stopped working for me, nor that yours will stop working for you. It doesn’t mean you should move to Nikon. This move doesn’t mean I will now refer to myself as a Nikonian any more than I once refered to myself as a Canonista. I snicker at people that use those terms, and so should you. This world has enough meaningless boxes and labels. I am not a Canon Shooter or a Nikon Shooter. I am a photographer, that’s all. Brands don’t matter; photographs do.

The Sigma Factor.
I am moving to Nikon for several reasons. It is starting as a slow transition and I will shoot both systems for a while, even possibly forever, though I doubt it purely for economic reasons. So here’s the deal.

I was approached by Sigma recently and asked if I would consider a sponsorship. They would give me access to their lenses if I would, in return, give them access to some of the images created through those lenses. I had already been thinking about getting a Nikon (reasons to follow) and this seemed like a good chance to do so without selling the farm. Selling the farm for lenses is always a bad idea, in my case it’s an even worse idea, primarily because I have no farm. One of the appeals of Sigma EX lenses is solid quality for considerably less than the pro-lenses from Nikon or Canon, and most of my readers simply can’t afford to buy a box of pro-optics. So this allows me to test and experience and recommend much more affordable lenses. Will I stop using pro-lenses? No. But I think it’s healthy to remember that beauty can be created without the highest level of gear.

My sponsorships are built on honesty and I am in no way obligated to say things about products I wouldn’t say to my own mother. In fact my sponsors know that if they send me crap I will send it right back. My value to them and to you is my honesty. I’ve used Sigma before and am excited to play with some of their optics again, but not once will I recommend you buy something I wouldn’t myself buy and use. There, I said it.

So Why Nikon?
I’m a teacher. I can’t tell you how stupid I feel when a student approaches with a Nikon in her hands and says, Hey how do I…? And I just shrug, looking dazed, and then I point over their shoulders, scream, “Look, there’s Joe McNally, ask him!” and turn tail and run for the hills. So I began this process by deciding to get a Nikon for that reason alone.

And then I started playing with them. There are some things I will miss about Canon, like the big scroll wheel on the back. But you know what, I’m a survivor, I can deal. In my limited experience and from talking to friends who own Nikon, here are some of my reasons. Even if some of these are subjective, I stand by them.

1. Ergonomics. I love the feel of a Nikon. Always have. After a long Pentax phase as a kid I shot Nikon film cameras and loved them.

2. Focus. Sorry, but I fight with Canon focus and even on my 1DsMkIII it struggles more than the Nikons I’ve played with. I know this hurts, but Canon’s just not gaining new ground fast enough. This is a biggy.

3. Low Noise in Low Light. In a word, amazing.

Those three sealed it for me. But here’s two more.

4. The Look. Different cameras, different looks. Not the look of the camera, the look of the photographs. Ya wouldn’t fault a guy from switching film stock, would you? Is the difference noticeable? I think it is. It is a case of one being better? I don’t think so. Just different. My 200mm isn’t better than my 85mm, they’re different. Vive la difference!

5. The small things. I’m out shooting and want to level my Canon? I need a bubble thingy. I want to shoot intervals? I need a $300 cable release that doesn’t even have an off-button. The D3s allows me to drop in 2 x 64gb CF cards and shoot to them in a variety of ways. My Canon 1DsMkIII makes me use 1 CF card and 1 SD card if I want to do that. Retarded. I can use the D3s batteries in the grip of the D700, allowing me to take one set of batteries and charger, not two. Sure, small things, but they matter. Also, rumour has it the flash system on the Nikon isn’t prehistoric.

6. Don’t even get me started on the Canon Explorer of Light thing. Hey, why are you still reading this part? I said don’t get me started.

So together those were enough to sway me. As an artist who relies on his tools full time, both for my own work and the work of clients, making this transition makes sense to me. Is vision still better? Of course it is. Will my photographs suddenly get better? I strongly doubt it. But will it be easier to create those images in the face of the creative and situational constraints that already make photography difficult? I think it will, and that’s worth something to me. Does any of this really matter? Not so much, but c’mon, we all love the tools with which we work, and if we can find tools we enjoy using more, then why not?

Comments are open, because I just know some of you have something to contribute, but if this turns into a debate or fan-boy gathering for either brand I will shut them down faster than hands off a greased pig.

Me. Shooting in the driving rain in Iceland. Cold. Wet. Deliriously happy.

I’ve never shot in the rain, drizzle, dew, fog, and general “water coming out of the sky in every possible form” as much as I did in Iceland the last couple weeks. There were days my boots were so wet I thought they’d never recover – they were soaked right through, and they’re the expensive GoreTex ones. But as wet and, at times, miserable as I was, there were also times I could have stayed out for hours. See the shot above? Wetter than I’ve ever been outside of a lake or swimming pool, but I was shooting images I was excited about, one which particularly captivates me, and if I’d not got out of the truck, thrown my rain gear on and braved the elements, I’d still be dry and wouldn’t have those images. I didn’t go to Iceland to be dry, but to make photographs.

No one likes shooting in the rain. OK, some do, but they’re unreasonable and suspicious. I’m closer to the “I might have rabies, that’s how much I dislike water” end of the spectrum. But I’d rather make beautiful photographs than stay dry and since the worst weather makes for some amazing environments to make beautiful images, we can either suck it up or find a way to tolerate it.

Worried about shooting in the rain? Scared your $3000 camera will die the moment the first drop of water hits it? It’s a genuine concern, but most cameras these days are pretty resilient. The only failures I’ve had have happened out of the blue on a sunny day, not when covered in water, so statistically I’m probably better shooting in the rain. So my first recommendation is this – stop freaking out about it. Bring a small towel or bandana and wipe the camera off as you can. I use Buffs, a brandname bandana/tube thingy that you can wear on your head (but I put them on my cameras). Protects from elements like dust and rain, comes off fast, and dries the water nicely. I always have one or two of these. Very handy.

I carry a small trekking umbrella in my bag, and that’s come very much in handy for keeping the rain of the lens while shooting, as has the pocket of large lens cloths I always carry. The big worry for me is not my camera dying – because it hasn’t yet – it’s the worry that I’ll get a great photograph only to later notice big rain drops on the lens are noticeable in the image.

I also carry a Think Tank Photo Hydrophobia – and while it’s meant for a camera with a 70-200 lens, it works well with some fussing around for almost any lens shorter than that as well, and while I loathe rain covers, this is the best one I’ve found, far better than the fussy, pain in the butt Kata one I also own and never use. Make sure your camera bag has a good rain cover too – all the Think Tank Photo bags come with one, and my Kiboko bag also has a built in cover as well.

Lastly, a pair of good rain pants and a good rain jacket. Well, I thought they were good until I spent so much time in the driving rain. Now I’m thinking a yellow rubber rain slicker, pants, and wellington boots wouldn’t be such a bad idea. if you wear glasses, a baseball hat works well to keep the drizzle of the lenses in a light drizzle. If the wind picks up, ain’t nothing keeping those specs dry.

Don’t be reckless with your gear, but if you’re wanting to get out and shoot in some really great light and weather, there’s more mood on a rainy day than ten sunny days put together. Stop freaking out, bring an umbrella, put a bag over the camera if you have to, but my tactic for shooting in the rain is to stop fussing, keep the lens dry, and wipe the camera when I can, and go make some photographs.

It’s been a while since an unapologetic gear post but I need to get this out there. I love the Gitzo fleece jacket. It’s not right for a guy to love a jacket this much, much less a jacket that raises my nerd factor to 11. Hell, this jacket goes up to 13, it’s that nerdy. But oh do I love it, and as most of my shooting happens in places where even a vest is too hot, this was my first time to really wear this miracle of recycled water bottle multi-pocketed fleecy goodness. Here’s the official image of it being worn by a man who also models for colouring books, only he looks less nerdy when he wears it. Could be the hair.

The jacket’s not light – but you can put pro-sized bodies and lenses in it, carry more CF cards, lens cleaners, hats, mits, Moleskine journals, flashlights, Leatherman multi-tools, than one person should own, let alone carry on their person while also looking like a member of a Special Ops bowling team or SWAT softball league. Assuming men with that much testosterone and access to guns would have such clubs and/or leagues, this would be the jacket they would wear. But I bet they’d embroider something cool on the back instead of just GITZO, which is what it says now at the base of the neck.

Seriously, this is an incredible jacket and if access to your stuff while keeping warm, if not mildly unfashionable due to the excess of pockets, is important to you, then this thing is a win. No, I wouldn’t wear it around town. Not often, anyways. Maybe for special occasions, like when Bruce Willis and Steven Seagal are kickin’ it in Vancouver and I want to hang out with them but need to feel a little more ready to take on the end of the world or evil Asian Triads while I do so, I might wear it around town then.

The pockets are legion, and huge. There are thick patches on the shoulder and elbows, a large back pocket in which you could stow a small child, or at least 3 Puffins, which is what I wanted to do, and – did I mention the pockets? There are many of them. Many much pocketed goodness! And a huge tab/loop/hang-yer-30lb-jacket-from-this-if-you-can-find-a-railway-spike-deeply-embedded-in-a-load-bearing-wall on the back by which one can carry the jacket, or swing it fully loaded like a Russian kettlebell should you be away from your preferred means of exercise.

I love this jacket, and while it does border only slightly on the absurd side of extreme, I was really grateful for it in Iceland and know I’ll get a lot out of it in cooler weather travel shooting. It ain’t cheap, but nothing with the Gitzo name on it usually is. You can get more information from the B&H Photo website HERE. Despite the sarcastic review, highly recommended. You can have mine when you peel it from my cold dead body (update: my warm, well-insulated, multi-pocketed corpse). Here is another photograph, this time worn by a very rugged, yet contemplative photographer. (Laugh if you must, but my pockets can beat-up your pockets any day!)

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