Dancing Inmates Perform Pitbull’s “Timber”

Remember the inmates dancing to Michael Jackson’s “Thriller”?

Here’s their première performance of Pitbull and Ke$ha’s “Timber”. My apologies for the camera work, or lack thereof.

This is from the Cebu Provincial Detention and Rehabilitation Center (CPDRC). Don’t let the dancing fool you–this is a Supermax facility. But it’s a really well-choreographed one. There’s lots more footage from the show, and lots more to say about the prison, so more to follow once a high-speed internet connection is reestablished.

Gray Does Something Good for a Change

I had no plans for a couple of days in Manila, so I joined my South African friends Alex and Alex (conveniently named) at Habitat for Humanity.

The first day, we built a wall.

The next day, we stuccoed (is that a word?) it.

The people who are moving into this community presently live in stilt-homes along a river that frequently floods, so it was nice to be able to help.

Plus the kids were so friendly and so fun, and it was nice to get outdoors.

Here’s their dog.

I tell you all this not so that you’ll think that I’m a good person (I’m not) or even that I contribute more to mankind than I take away (I don’t). I just wanted you to know that in the battle for my soul, the Devil is no longer throwing a no-hitter.

Manila

Manila is the capital of the Philippines. It’s a huge, sprawling city that’s actually an amalgamation of other cities. There is no central downtown to speak of. It’s dirty, chaotic, and dangerous, and I love it.

They have my two favorite types of transportation in the world here.

Moto-sidecars, which consist of a motorbike welded to a sheet metal sidecar with a rebar axle, and…

…Jeepneys. At one point, these were jeeps that had been turned into a sort of bus. They still resemble Jeeps, but I suspect that despite having been in constant service for 60 years, they share not a single bolt or washer with the original vehicle. (My dad would say they’re like great-grandpa’s axe, 3 heads and 6 handles ago.) Some are hot-rodded, with an exposed engine in lieu of hood and cowling. If you like, you can ride standing next to the conductor on the back, but the roof forces you to cantilever backwards over the road, so it gets pretty tiring pretty quickly.

They’re unbelievably big on fast food here, with all the major American chains (McD’s, Wendy’s, BK, Taco Bell, Papa John’s, etc.) and homegrown chains (Jollibee, Chowking, Noodle King). But their very favorite is Pizza Hut. One mall had 5 pizza huts. If you call 911 in Manila, you don’t get an emergency operator–you get Pizza Hut delivery dispatch. (This isn’t a joke).

Here’s a school bus, a blind dog chained to a jeepney,  the national headquarters of an obscure religious movement, Manila’s flood warning system, and a close up of a rooster.

 

Singapore Art Museum

Singapore’s art museum is devoted to modern art, which should make it interesting. It doesn’t.

I’ll spare you the details, but the silver lining of this dark cloud was the self-portrait below. It’s made up of 6,000 shampoo bottle caps, some open, some closed. The light reflects off them differently, producing the image below.

If you stand at the other side of the portrait, you get the negative of the image.

There was also an exhibit allowing visitors to leave their own philosophical/inspirational message on a tree, an exhibit in itself. Here’s my contribution.

After that it was to Raffle’s Hotel (home of the Singapore Sling) for $30 martinis, the 2nd most expensive drink of my life and worth a full week in parts of Laos.

Eating Singapore

I spent the weekend in Singapore with the esteemed Eric “Howie” Leventhal. Where to begin? I spent much of the weekend hangover–after a 4pm wakeup on Saturday we took in the Singapore Lions match against Salakong PKNS in Malay Premier League play. Naturally we were rooting the home team, and got in on some heckling of the opponents. The highlight was Howie yelling “Go home white boy!” at PKNS’ mercenary Slovakian striker.

The real highlight of Singapore is the food, with thousands of “hawker stalls”, each of which specializes in a single thing, and many of which have been in business for decades. For example, you might have a place that makes only prawn noodles, and has been doing so since 1962. That is, they’re quite literally the world’s foremost experts on prawn noodles. This makes Singapore the best food city that I’ve ever seen. We had excellent soup dumplings and Indian food, among other things, but the highlight was Beijing duck (not to be confused with Peking duck).

It’s cooked for only an hour over wood charcoal in a vessel pen only at the bottom. Somehow it comes out with perfectly crispy skin while retaining an unbelievable amount of moisture. The meat falls off the bone. If you’re thinking that this method of cooking is unlikely to produce this result, I agree–I’ve decided it must be magic. In any event, the whole Beijing duck was one of the best meals of my life if not world history

The Marina Bay Sands frames the harborfront, and is the single largest resort project in history at over $5b. A free laser show every evening offers some crazy holographic projections.

We enjoyed high tea and ice skating (technically Teflon skating) inside. The building has commanding views of the bay as well as completing the ring of skyscrapers around the bay that makes this one of the world’s great skylines. And if you’ve heard about the strict laws enjoining gum, spitting, etc, don’t be deceived–this is very much a party city.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

But it isn’t all vice–there are some very cool colonial-era churches here too, pictured below.

 

 

McDonald’s: Tangy Filet O’Fish and Smoky Wings

The McDonald’s menu in Singapore is pretty much the standard menu, with a couple of not-so-interesting variations.

In addition to the filet o’fish (an underrated sandwich to begin with), they offer a tangy filet o’fish. It’s identical except for the sauce–on the tangy sandwich, the tartar sauce has some sort of chile added, giving it a red tint. The tang is subtle, not at all overwhelming, and could probably be slightly more pronounced. Oddly, the tang that is there has a hint of wasabi. The filet o’fish still isn’t the best thing on the menu, but this could just be the update that it needs.

They also offer smoky wings here. These are the McWings, but baked instead of fried. There’s only a small amount of sauce, so while they’re not dry, they aren’t exactly wet either. The sauce tastes like (and probably is) liquid smoke, which is to say it tastes like Burger King, which is to say it’s pretty delicious.

5 Things America is Best At

Between a sluggish economy, a dysfunctional political class, and general economic and social malaise, much of the news about America isn’t good news. And lots of people, myself included, have our complaints–I hear a great many of them from non-Americans abroad. (Myself, I’m like an opposing politician, I refrain from criticizing the US while on foreign soil).

And so while we’re not best at everything, there are a few things (aside from the obvious) at which we’re still head-and-shoulders better than the rest.

1) Ketchup. It’s supposed to be a delicate balance of sweet and tangy, with sugar, vinegar, and spices complementing tomato. Elsewhere it’s either glorified tomato paste or too sweet and better suited to drizzling on ice cream.

2) Climate Control. The United States is the only place in the world that defines success in climate control based on results. Elsewhere, having A/C is sufficient, regardless of how well it works. It’s as though consumers are more interested in management thinking of them than in making them comfortable. Sometimes (i.e. always) meritocracy is better. If you want to be comfortable, you want to be in the US.

3) Snacks. The dearth of snacks outside the United States is truly depressing. They are typically either some sort of dried fish or meat or home-flavored starch. The legitimate (non-home-grown) snack market is dominated in every country by only a handful of brands. But even the name-brand products aren’t the same. There are lots of Pringles here but, even avoiding the Shrimp and Seaweed flavors, they aren’t even good. There is more snack variety in a random American Exxon station than in the entire Asian continent.

4) Queuing. The British may have popularized lining up for things, but we perfected it. I can’t put my finger on what it is, but almost everywhere in the world the people are incapable of standing in line for anything. They either shove together in a mass, or spread out like a fan around the entrance. Embarking passengers don’t yield to disembarking passengers, as though there’s as much room inside a bus or train as outside. Call it respect for the social contract, or civic duty, or whatever you like–but the fact is, that for all the flack Americans take for our individualism, we treat random passersby a Hell of a lot better than other peoples do.

5) Leaving the Country. I complain all the time about US immigration and customs procedures. And ours are slower and more painful than most. (For example, in Singapore, they commit to clearing you through immigration in 30 seconds). Much of this is because US Customs selects me for additional screening literally every time I enter the country, yet insists each time that it’s random. But I digress. While we’re much worse at processing people entering, we’re 100% better at processing people leaving. We’re first in the world, because we don’t do it at all. The vast majority of countries require you to check-in AND check-out. And this may actually be representative of a great many other areas in which we excel. The world is a marketplace of political systems, and we don’t worry about who’s leaving ours because we don’t have to. As Margaret Thatcher famously pointed out, contrasting the UK with the Soviet Union, we never had to build a wall to keep our people in.

McDonalds’s: Samurai Pork Burger

I’ve long maintained that McDonald’s has never sold anything that wasn’t delicious, and that their failed items were a result of them being not quite delicious enough. (Yes, I was and am a fan of the Arch Deluxe. And while I’m not the biggest yogurt and fruit guy, theirs is damn good.) I’m putting this theory to the test in the international market by exploring some of the more exotic menu items.

The food at McDonald’s here isn’t that strange, but I kept seeing a couple of menu items that I wanted to try.

First was something called the Samurai Pork Burger. It’s prepared like a McChicken, with bun, shredded lettuce, and mayonnaise. The pork itself is grilled and served with some sort of sauce that’s like a thick and somewhat tasteless teriyaki. And it tastes as it seems, like a teriyaki pork McChicken–which is to say, excellent.

I also ordered a gingko/taro pie. The filling is a strangely bright purple substance, but otherwise the pie is just as at home. This one is harder to describe–it’s like a less sweet and more starchy version of the McDonald’s pie back home, with the slight impression that the filling was sourced from a chemical plant–a really, really delicious chemical plant.

So far, the theory holds.

Asian Cuisine

A couple of people have asked how, given that SE Asian food is the best in the world, the top 5 meals haven’t been updated. The answer is that I tired of writing about what I’m eating all the time, and I’m sure others tired of reading about it. The top 5 also changed pretty rapidly here, so here’s an update. Going forward, I’ll only mention particularly noteworthy meals, except for keeping you posted on the offerings at McDonald’s around the world.

The best thing I’ve had, which I mentioned in a prior post, was Cambodian Fish Amok (or a mouk).

A close second is what the Vietnamese call cha ca. It’s marinated freshwater fish chunks with herbs, and you pan fry it yourself over a tableside frame. I would describe it in more detail, but the New York Times does a much better job:

http://www.nytimes.com/2012/05/30/dining/cha-ca-la-vong-a-dish-inspired-by-a-dive-in-hanoi.html?_r=0

 

 

Vientiane Airshow

Here is the video of the RC Airshow in Vientiane, as promised. It’s not exactly Oshkosh, but he has his RC Extra doing most of the tricks that the real ones do. Note the extreme rudder and elevator movements–I’m guessing (and hoping) this isn’t how it’s done in real life.

3 Nights on the Train: Chiang Mai to Singapore

From Huay Xai, it’s a van ride to Chiang Mai in northern Thailand. From there, it’s a long way to Singapore for the weekend. I’m going by train, which means…

1) Overnight from Chiang Mai to Bangkok

2) Day in Bangkok

3) Overnight train from Bangkok to Hat Yai

4) Day train from Hat Yai to Sungai Kolok

5) Moto from Sungai Kolok to Thai immigration at the border

6) Walking across the border into Malaysia

7) Taxi from Malaysian immigration to Wakaf Bharu

8) Overnight train from Wakaf Bharu to Singapore

The ride itself is through the jungle much of the way, or through rubber plantations that were once jungle. The southern part of this route is the path along which the Japanese advanced on bicycles to invade Singapore, and the railroad through the jungle was built with Allied POW labor. You can divert for a day to visit the Bridge on the River Kwai, but it’s neither “the bridge” (the actual bridge was bombed by the US late in WWII), nor is it on the River Kwai (after the movie was named, Thailand renamed the river “Kwai” to capitalize on the popularity), so I declined.

I slept comfortable enough on the train and had a great day in Bangkok with boat rides, moto rides, a scrub and massage, and McDonald’s–all of my favorite things except a cocktail.

The lowlight was 6 hours spent in Wakaf Bharu, in Kelantan, a conservative Islamic part of Malaysia. The food was good, but here’s an excerpt from the Wikipedia page for Kelantan:

For years, PAS has attempted to impose a strict interpretation of Islamic Law on Kelantan. It has succeeded in imposing certain social strictures such as single-sex queues in supermarkets; separate public benches for men and women; and limiting entertainment centres to prohibit “salacious behaviour”. Proposals to institute punishments such as amputation of limbs for thievery and execution for blasphemy (collectively known as Hudud Law), however, have been blocked by the national government on constitutional grounds.

Given my proclivities for blasphemy and salacious behavior, I was happy to leave,

The Gibbon Experience

The slow boat from Luang Prabang ends at Huay Xai on the Thai border. It’s a small town used primarily as the jumping-off-point for The Gibbon Experience, which for almost a decade has been THE thing to do in Southeast Asia.

The Gibbon Experience is a perfect example of private or quasi-private conservation efforts beating the pure public model.  Gibbons are endangered apes (lesser apes, to be precise) that are endangered everywhere they range. Here, treehouses have been built that are only accessible by ziplines through the forest canopy. Tourists pay for the privilege, the cost of which supports conservation of the forest, operating costs, anti-poacher patrols (made up of the men who were formerly the best poachers), and various development activities.

The highlight of the trip are the treehouses and ziplines. If you’re coming for the wildlife, you’re going to be disappointed. You’re extremely unlikely to see gibbons, and may see some monkeys. They should either de-emphasize the “gibbon” part, or rename it “The Bee Experience” or “The Tree Rat Experience”, as those are the only animals that you encounter in any number. One of the treehouses is all but taken over by bees, which they’ve left there in an effort to live as one with the forest–they had no answer when I asked what they would do if a bear were to move in. The tree rats, the size of kittens, climb in at night, and eat any food that can be found. Hearing them scratching around at night with only a mosquito net between you and them can be disconcerting. Having said that, the experience is amazing and well worth the cost, though I still don’t quite understand what everyone is raving about. There are also a number of butterflies and birds here, among the most colorful I’ve ever seen. The below are of the same guy.

They’re not much on zipline safety here, it being Laos after all. But the freedom that comes with it makes it that much better. You hike in with a guide, and then you’re on your own to airline around the jungle. There’s a waterfall too that allows for much-needed cooling off.

Their one nod to safety is that there’s no alcohol, but you can make up for that on the car ride back to Huay Xai. The daughter of the woman who sold us beer was particularly proud of her cat.

Ziplining in and out of treehouse a couple hundred of feet in the air took some getting used to. (Please pardon the language).

But after a day we got the hang of it.

The best was waking up on the final day at sunrise to zipline through the mist.

Slow Boat Up the Mekong

A third bus ride in Laos brought a third breakdown, so I’m still batting 1.000. Luang Prabang is much cooler than Vientiane, and much more charming. There still isn’t a Hell of a lot to do, so I occupied myself riding a motorbike to the local waterfall (my favorite activity).

 

From Luang Prabang, it’s two days on a slow boat up the Mekong River to Huay Xai, on the Thai border. We’re now far up the Mekong, so there’s no commercial navigation here, only local fishing boats, ferry boats, and the slow and fast boats. The rapids aren’t serious, but there are rapids, so any boat here needs to be able to pass through them.

The slow boat is about 90 feet long but no more than 8 or 10 feet wide, which is the maximum practical width given the narrow chutes of some rapids. It’s smooth, quiet, cheap, and comfortable, and the scenery along the way is pretty incredible. There’s an overnight stop in Pakbeng, not the most exciting place in the world, but comfortable enough.

Young monks bathing in the Mekong.

Laundry Day

Vientiane

There isn’t a Hell of a lot to say about Vientiane.

The overnight bus here from 4,000 islands broke down overnight, which makes 100% of bus trips in Laos in which the bus has broken down. The issue, it seems, was with the electrically-driven air compressor for the suspension, brakes, and (most importantly) air conditioning. Over a couple of hours this was resolved by rewiring the entire thing on the side of the road.

Vientiane in the dry season is hot, dusty, and smoky, the latter from the burning of rice fields. The concentration of smoke here is over 300 parts per million (ppm), or 6 times the World Health Organizations maximum recommended threshold. It’s not so bad if you don’t mind blowing your nose of soot a dozen times a day.

But along the river is a bar called “The Spirit House”, which is what you’d expect the bars at the Plaza or Waldorf to be (though you’d be disappointed in the barmen at the Plaza or Waldorf). These guys can tell you, off-the-cuff, that the daiquiri was invented by Jennings Cox, or that it’s star anise that gives Romana Sambuca it’s flavor, among other trivia. They also offer the first proper Pimm’s Cup that I’ve found in Asia.

Other than that, Vientiane is notable for the gusto with which the backpackers play beer pong (probably because there’s nothing else to do) and the nightly air shows along the Mekong River, featuring RC acrobatic planes and amateur powered parachute pilots almost killing themselves (when they’re able to get airborne, that is). There’s a video of this, but I’ll have to post it later given the slow internet here.

From here, more bus rides north to Luang Prabang, before turning west and heading toward northern Thailand.

An abandoned building along the waterfront, with graffiti (or is it graffito?)

R.I.P Jeremy Back

I’m sad to report the passing of Jeremy, my beloved betta fish. He was so much more than a pet, and our friendship long ago transcended the owner-pet paradigm. He died unapologetically and on his own terms. Many have asked how a fish of such indefatigable constitution could go so quickly. His constitution was certainly intact–he was still driving fast boats and chasing fast women right up to the end. I’m certain that he simply refused to play death’s cruel game. We are all better people for having known him.

His best friend, Nick Mageras, wrote a moving obituary that appeared in yesterday’s Washington Post, copied below. No fish ever had a better friend than he.

Jeremy, the famed Siamese fighting fish, passed away last
night peacefully in his luxury Northern Virginia high-rise apartment. He was 4 years old. He died as he lived, surrounded by the comfort and unyielding love of his friends and family. He is survived by his eternally devoted caretakers: Craig (it’s complicated) Korpiel of Peters Township; Nick (no one, lonely) Mageras of Mt. Lebanon; and Gray (depends on the day) Beck of Arkadelphia, AK.

Born into humble beginnings, the son of a fish school teacher father and a
homemaker mother, Jeremy spent his formative years in the confines of a Potomac Yards, VA Petco storefront tank. Though he took his scholarly duties seriously, he gained a reputation at Petco for being a class clown and lighthearted prankster – often times popping out behind artificial tree limbs to startle fellow fish. Beloved by both the males and females in his tank, a rarity for a Beta fish, Jeremy was seen and relied upon as a source of distraction and hope amidst the uncertainty that comes with captivity. Things did indeed take a serious turn when he was abruptly snatched out of his tank at age 1.5, and whisked away to dwell at a corporate office in downtown Washington, D.C.

However, it was there that Jeremy, under the guiding hand and care of Mr. Beck, would cement his legacy as one of the most important Beta fish of the domesticated era. He was a pioneer in both enduring prolonged periods of time without food while Mr. Beck was on travel, and also winning the adorement of female coworkers and their children. You could also often find him providing mentorship to the other fish and plant life in the office. This was especiallyvital during the financial crisis of 2008, which did not spare Mr. Beck’s employer, and cut office pet food rations dramatically. Yet Jeremy never once complained and set a strong example for his contemporaries. These experiences ensured his standing as a legendary figure in the pet fish world and serve as an inspiration to those who will come after. When Mr. Beck decided to end his
career at age 30, Jeremy saw fit to do the same given his life’s
accomplishments. So as it were, in late 2013, they both ceased gainful
employment.

Jeremy lived out his twighlight years under the watchful eye of Mr. Mageras and Mr. Korpiel in Ballston, VA. Though some would undoubtedly question his living conditions and treatment during those remaining days – mostly at the hands of Mr. Korpiel encouraging others to feed him popcorn or scare him with a phone camera – Jeremy taught his new caretakers important life lessons about adaptability, compassion, and contentment. An initial fin rot scare during his first days in the apartment served to be an important bonding moment, and after
successful treatment, cemented the friendship between all three residents. Jeremy eventually succumbed to old age and water temperature shock (though a formal autopsy and toxicology report is pending).

He will be sorely missed by those who ever had the good fortune to come across his path.

A celebration of Jeremy’s life will take place next weekend at his former
retirement residence – 3900 Fairfax Dr. Apt. 1516. Visitation hours will be on Friday, March 21^st between 8pm-11pm. In lieu of flowers, his former caretakers ask that you donate Fireball whisky, cold beer, or goldfish crackers.

Laos: Four Thousand Islands

Just across the Cambodian border in Laos is the 4,000 islands region of the Mekong River. A few years ago, this was a very sleepy place indeed, but tourism here has started to pick up, primarily on a small island called Don Det. These girls were having ice cream at a bus stop en route.

The primary attraction is a waterfall, at least formally. Informally, it’s the new destination for lots of backpackers now that tubing in Vang Viang is all but shutdown. It’s far enough off the beaten path that anything goes, so pot is smoked openly and happy shakes (laced with amphetamine and hallucinogens) and hangover shakes (laced with Valium) abound. It’s not nearly as party as Vang Viang. If you’d told me that I’d like a backpacker paradise with drugs abound, I wouldn’t have believed you, but somehow I love it here. It’s beautiful, cheap, and relaxing. Everyone stays in bungalows reminiscent of the island, right down to the not flushing toilet paper and suspect wiring. There isn’t much to do, so everyone rents bikes and just rides them around through Laotian villages.

The waterfall itself is impressive. The Mekong here is split into dozens of channels, and here small waterfalls span the horizon for a. mile or more.

Angkor Wat

What we call Angkor Wat is actually a huge area full of temples centered around the largest and most famous, Angkor Wat. There are more tourists here than anywhere else on the planet–it’s as crowded as the Eiffel Tower. The trick is to see sunrise or sunset, but as we’re near the spring equinox, the sun rises directly behind the temple itself. I left at 430am for a 10km trip to Angkor Wat for a 621am sunrise but was not among the first couple of thousand people there. But 6am, there were tens of thousands. By 10am, there were hundreds of thousands.

The Burmese compare Bagan to this, but Angkor Wat is way out of Bagan’s league. It’s not exactly as beautiful as Machu Picchu, to which it’s often compared, but it has a magic that Machu Picchu lacks, sort of a decaying grandeur. Bizarrely, it reminds be a bit of New Orleans and Savannah–somehow it always feels creepy, swampy, and misty, even when it isn’t.

The motorbike came in handy here, because I could outrun the tour buses and tuk-tuks. Immediately after sunrise, I left Angkor Wat for other temples deeper in the park. And happily, I found some of them all but deserted. Bayan, with the faces, is probably the second most famous temple here.

But my favorite, by far, was some obscure temple that hasn’t yet undergone reconstruction. I far prefer untouched ruins to recreations. (A similar temple, of Indiana Jones fame, is now being rebuilt and so no longer looks like this at all).

This guy kept trying to guide me around, so I let him so I could take pictures of him.

Everywhere you turn here there are complete temples, walls, and shrines in various states of repair.

Outside of one temple was this Cambodian woman, who to me is as beautiful as the Afghan woman with the haunting green eyes from the most famous National Geographic cover of all time.

Siam Reap

In years past, the roads were so bad in Cambodia that the only from Phnom Penh to Siam Reap was by boat across Tonle Sap. Now that the roads are improved, you have options. You can pay $10 to ride in comfort on an air conditioned bus, or you can pay $30 to ride on a cramped and breakdown-prone Soviet hydrofoil that takes the same length of time. Naturally, I opted for the hydrofoil. It’s so cramped and hot inside that most people ride on the roof. That does nothing for the sound of the unmuffled engine screaming behind you, but you can used to it after hour four.

Siam Reap is primarily (by which I mean only) noteworthy as the jumping off point for the temples of the Angkor Wat complex. But the town isn’t as bad as most such tourist towns. It’s illegal to rent motorbikes to foreigners here, but if you’re willing to pay a premium, one can be had. Outside of town are a couple of local attractions. I spent the morning at Angkor Wat (coming in a separate post) and the afternoon cruising around outside of town. There’s a landmine museum, which is eye-opening to the unaware but otherwise not particularly interesting.

Much more pleasant is the local butterfly garden which provides a much-needed respite from the heat of the dry season. The things that look like liquid mercury are soon-to-hatch cocoons.

How to Take Better Photos

People keep complimenting my photos and telling me what a great photographer I am. I wouldn’t presume to offer advice on the subject, except that I’m not a great photographer, or even a good one. Here’s everything that you need to know to receive compliments on your pictures despite not knowing what the Hell you’re doing–it’s working for me!

Before we get into advice, there are a couple of tenets of photography philosophy that you’ll have to accept.

First, photography is primarily about light, not about subject matter. Interesting subjects + bad light = Bad pictures. Uninteresting subjects + good light = Good pictures. Interesting subjects + good light = Great pictures.

Second, some photographers consider themselves purists who try to shoot everything “true”, that is straight-on, perfectly aligned, no filter, true colors, etc. They are fools. Even if you perfectly mapped 3-d reality into 4:3 2-dimensional space, it wouldn’t accurately convey the subject of the photo. Your task is not to replicate, but to convey, and to do so, you must manipulate your 2-dimensional medium. Photography is very much an art and not a science.

If you’re willing to accept those two tenets, it all becomes very easy. Here are the 5-steps to taking better photos, in order of priority.

1) Get close. Everyone who has taught photography, written about photography, studied photography, or even looked at enough photography emphasizes this. It’s the Golden Rule, and it’s right, Don’t be lazy. Never zoom when you can physically move the camera closer to the subject.

2) Take Lots of Pictures. The number of subjects is up to you, but when you pick a subject, shoot the Hell out of it. Memory is free and you can cull photos later. I don’t exposure bracket, but it can be helpful, particularly at first, when you’ll have a hard time envisioning various configurations.

3) Pay Attention to the Time of Day. Good photos are taken in the morning and afternoon. No great picture has ever been taken midday outdoors in the sun. I don’t even take pictures between 10am and 2pm unless there is a subject that I desperately want captured for posterity. Shoot with the sun at your back. (Except when you don’t, but when you don’t, it must be purposeful).

4) Obey the Rule of Thirds (except when you purposefully don’t). In short, divide the frame into a 3×3 grid and place the center of your subject at one of the 4 intersections. Avoid placing the center of your subject in the center of the frame. This isn’t a hard rule, but makes a good rule-of-thumb.

5) Forget the Flash. The internal flash on all cameras, including high-end SLRs, is useful only for illuminating faces when shooting portraits in the dark. And then it merely replaces a useless photo with a bad photo. Internal flashes are too weak, too concentrated, and not well-synched out of the box. Turn it off and leave it off.

Home Thoughts, From Abroad

It’s not yet April, but springtime approaching at home made me think of this.

It’s Robert Browning, and if you like it, you should read Lost Leader.

“O, TO be in England

Now that April ‘s there,

And whoever wakes in England

Sees, some morning, unaware,

That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf

Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf,

While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough

In England—now!

And after April, when May follows,

And the whitethroat builds, and all the swallows!

Hark, where my blossom’d pear-tree in the hedge

Leans to the field and scatters on the clover

Blossoms and dewdrops—at the bent spray’s edge—

That ‘s the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over,

Lest you should think he never could recapture

The first fine careless rapture!

And though the fields look rough with hoary dew,

All will be gay when noontide wakes anew

The buttercups, the little children’s dower

Far brighter than this gaudy melon-flower!”