Cable release, Another purpose

“What am I doing here, and why does it have to be done this way?”

Changing our routine makes us feel smarter. No matter how mundane the task, like putting the plastic tips at the end of shoelaces, or stuffing the 724^th box of fake flowers for shipment, the simple act of moving where you have the tape or a re-gripping of a constantly used tool can imbue one with the feeling that innovation brings.

You might think no two crime scenes are the same. I have to tell you, the actions I take to document with a camera the individual bits of evidence have become quite routine, and the only changes are,day, place, and circumstance. The smell can be more or less inviting, sometimes a lot less.

So what in the flying camels does using a cable release have to do with tedium? I don't like it. I have to rummage around to find it. It is hard to plug-in. Your modern cable release is really a remote button. They have more or less of the basic functions found on the camera. Their main job is to keep you from shaking the camera during a long exposure, something I have to do constantly since I largely shoot in the evening.

My little innovative workaround to this issue I have with this wonder dangle-mangle is to use the camera self timer. I set the timer on its shortest setting, point the camera, make sure focus is checked, press the button, and wait 2 seconds. I'm usually taking an exposure of 15 seconds or more and have found that extra 2 seconds to be less bothersome and more efficient than trying to find something that gets tangled, is occasionally buggy, and overall does not save me time. In the 2 seconds after I pressed the cameras shutter button the entire system gets a chance to settle down and I end up with a rock solid image in terms of no blur that can be caused by moving the camera during a long exposure. A detective to whom photography was a hobby, thought that was pretty neat.

Suddenly, I felt smarter. I felt a bit like a teacher. And that the wisdom of the ages past a splinter of knowledge through me.

Nothing you do, often resulting from what you think, will ever be done in a vacuum.