Danielle in the park, from the old Kodak Six-20

Having patched up the old Kodak’s bellows with gaffer tape, I finally got a roll of film back that wasn’t horrifically marred by light leakage.  They went ahead and developed the film and made singles for me, but didn’t do the scans I’d requested from the lab, because the images weren’t exactly top notch,  owing to my lack of a light meter at the time.

Since I had to go by Sunny-16, I would find myself, for instance, in a park wondering “Is this two or three stops below full sunlight?”  Judging by the underexposed images I got back, apparently the answer was actually “four.”  Regardless, though, it was an absolute joy to get back an envelope full of prints with photos on them that you could actually see something distinguishable in.  In fact, focus and exposure issues aside, I have to say that I really like the look.  The camera has its quirks, with the shutter occasionally malfunctioning and wiping out a third of an image, or the lens occasionally putting nice little spots on the images, but those are just the sorts of things you expect from a camera like that: I think it gives them a little character.

An old fence, shot with an even older camera

On a separate, but related note, last night I stumbled upon some glowing water out at the causeway.  Turns out there’s some variety of algae living in it that, when disturbed, glows.  This causes the waves that wash up on shore to glow green, and they’ll also light up if you throw things into the water, or disturb it in any other way.  As it turns out, even stomping on the ground can make a bunch of them light up.

Farrah paints with algae

So I went with a couple of friends out to see it again tonight, and tried to make some photographs while we were at it.  It did prove difficult, because the algae were dim and the moonlight was bright, but I cranked it up to ISO 3200 and opened up to f/2.8, and managed to get a pretty nifty long exposure while my friend, Farrah, drew shapes in the water with a stick.  The result is insanely noisy, of course, and Farrah is a blur from the long exposure: combined with the high ISO noise, this makes her look more or less like a charcoal painting, and the whole scene is just…surreal.  Altogether, it makes for an image that I’m very fond of.

One of the salvaged photographs: the doors on our backyard shed

I got the last roll of film back that I shot with my old Kodak foldout, and unfortunately it appears that my bellows weren’t nearly as mended as I thought they were.  Out of the 8 frame roll, I got one shot that was relatively decent, and another that was, shall we say…barely recoverable.

One of the salvaged photographs: my sister and pet kinkajou

The former was a photograph of our backyard shed doors, and also the last frame on the roll, which probably had something to do with its survival.  The other was a photograph of my sister with our pet kinkajou, which has multiple overlapping rectangles of overexposure (presumably from pinpricks in the bellows letting light shine in) and the face so obscured by overexposure as to be unrecognizable.

Neither shot came out very well digitally, as I still have a lot of trouble trying to fully remove the orange mask from the scanned negative (when the negative colors are inverted, the orange becomes blue, which is what gives that irritating blue tint to the images).  Mixed with a camera that’s leaking light, the effect is…horrific.  Then again, I could probably get by with calling it artistic, if I wanted to.  What I know for sure, though, is that the next time I unfold that camera, I’m covering the bellows with gaffer tape, to see if I can finally get some properly exposed photographs out of it.

I found a formula on the Interwebs for a flexible adhesive that should help, and I applied the first coat today, with more coming tomorrow and the next day, as it needs time to dry.  With any luck, once that’s all finished, the bellows will be light-proof again, and I can try again with another roll.  In case anyone is wondering, the recipe is one teaspoon Elmer’s glue, two drops of dish soap, and two drops of lamp black oil paint.  Just mix that all up, and apply it to the inside of the bellows with a brush.  You’ve gotta let it dry at least overnight between coats (and you’ll probably want several of them: mine’s still showing a few pinpricks even with the first coat on), and 24 hours before using.  Also, after applying it, you want to fully expand and contract the bellows a couple times, to make sure it really gets in there.

To address the other part of the title, at the local Golden Corral, there’s a fishbowl on the counter that says to drop your business card in, and you can win lunch for you and twenty friends.  So I did, a couple months ago, and yesterday I was awakened by a man from Ameriprise Financial.  My first reaction, of course, was something to the effect of “Financial company, oh Dear God what happened to my debit card and/or bank account?!”  Turns out, though, that they’re actually a financial planning company, and they’d drawn my card out of the bowl.  Deal was, he said, I bring twenty friends, he gives us a short spiel on their financial planning services, and then picks up the tab and leaves.  Sounds awesome, right?  And at the time, it was.

But of course, you’re still thinking about the title.  “What’s devilish about a free meal?”, you may ask.  The answer is, it turns out, that there is no meal.  I get the confirmation email today, and it tells me to send back a list of 20 friends, and that we all have to be over the age of 21.  Problem: I’m still 18.  So I email the guy back, asking for some sort of leniency, to be nonchalantly told that they’ll just have to draw another card and pick another winner.  Not even a “Hey, sorry we made you look like a jerk for inviting people to a free lunch that’s not gonna happen.”  Did I mention that the confirmation email came more than 24 hours after the phone call?  Yeah.

So, that’s where the title comes from.  Ameriprise Financial is now officially Satan, as far as I’m concerned.  At this point, I really have no idea who I’d go to if I found myself in need of financial planning services one day, or a friend needed a referral, but I at least know one company I wouldn’t pick.  I guess that’s a start, at least.