Back in 2011, a used Leica Summicron 50mm f/2 Rigid in decent condition went for around $770, while the newly released Voigtländer VM 35mm f/1.4 II was priced over $1,300.
I’ve been keeping a sneaky eye on its price over the years—watched it dip to the $900 range, then $600, and now it’s finally down to about $350. The time had come. Big thanks to the friend who held onto it for me all these years… 😁
The Voigtländer has arrived.
When it comes to adapting manual lenses, the Sony A7S is noticeably more friendly than the original A7. Vignetting is hardly noticeable, the color rendering feels more “serious” compared to the classic VM lenses, and sharpness is absolutely perfect wide open on a 12MP sensor—in fact, this lens was practically designed for Sony cameras back in the day. Its size isn’t exactly compact on a Leica M body, but it balances beautifully on a Sony A7.
This isn’t just a lens for fondling—it’s a lens for making images.
sony a7s + Voigtländer vm 35mm 1.2 asph iisony a7s + Voigtländer vm 35mm 1.2 asph ii
After shooting a basketball series in JPG-only burst mode, I made a discovery: JPG is more than enough. When we default to RAW (or RAW+JPG), we subconsciously whisper: “I’ll fix it in post.” But is “fixing it later” truly part of photography—or just an excuse to slack off in the moment?
JPG: The Digital Film Experience
For special scenarios like high-contrast landscapes, RAW’s flexibility is invaluable. But for everyday shooting? JPG forces you to commit, like film. No safety net means you focus intensely on exposure, composition, and seizing the moment—the essence of photography. No more hiding behind sliders.
The “Fake Photo” Epidemic
Yes, RAW can transform dull shots into neon-drenched masterpieces. But this feels like digital taxidermy—artificial enhancement that betrays reality. It’s no different from slapping filters on fast food ads: the burger glistens in the photo; IRL, it’s a sad, soggy mess. My rule: Post-processing should reveal truth, not invent it.
The JPG Experiment: Freedom in Constraints
During the basketball games, I shot exclusively in JPG. The result? Liberating simplicity. My only edit was occasional B&W conversion—no exposure tweaks, no shadow recovery. And guess what? The images felt honest.
Sony A7s: The Dark Horse Hero
My 12MP Sony A7s, often overlooked, delivered a revelation: at ISO 6400, JPGs burst with vibrant, film-like color. No wonder DxOMark ranks its high-ISO performance top 5—even today. Sometimes, less (pixels) really is more (character).
The $200 Miracle: Vivitar 135mm f/2.8
Then there’s my thrifted Vivitar 135mm f/2.8. For $20, this “Leica-handfeel” lens stunned me: tack-sharp in dim gym light, rendering colors like a dream. Proof that greatness isn’t defined by price tags.
The Verdict: Shoot Like It Matters
Light is king. Good light = glorious JPGs. Bad light? No RAW wizardry saves a poorly captured moment.
Photography is personal. Your images should reflect your truth, not algorithmic hype.
Try the JPG challenge. For one week, shoot JPG-only. You’ll rediscover the thrill of getting it right—not just “fixable.”
Final thought: RAW has its place. But if you’re using it as a crutch, you’re missing the point. JPG isn’t a compromise—it’s a return to photography’s beating heart: the decisive moment, nailed in-camera.
📸 Your future self (and your hard drive) will thank you.
Armed with another relic—Nikon’s 58mm f/1.4 “AUTO” lens—I returned to the asphalt court. Fresh off the Afghan Girl lens’ triumph, I wondered: Could this vintage pancake lens, older than my dad’s mixtapes, handle the chaos of pickup basketball?
The f/1.4 Gamble Let’s get technical (but only for a sentence): Mounting this 58mm on a Sony A7S was like teaching a vinyl turntable to stream TikTok dances. The massive f/1.4 aperture promised buttery bokeh, but manual focusing through an EVF felt like threading a noodle through a keyhole mid-game. Shots were either “Wow, that sweat bead looks like a diamond!” or “Did I accidentally photograph a ghost?” Compared to the 105mm’s surgical precision, this lens rendered scenes like a jazz painting—all mood, no maps.
From Sidelines to Starting Five Then came the plot twist: The 2v3 underdog team, tired of losing, shouted: “Yo, camera guy—get in here!” I hesitated. My basketball résumé includes:
Accidentally dunking on a 6th-grade hoop (it was 7 feet tall).
Once tripping over my own shadow during a layup.
But pride (and peer pressure) won. I swapped the Nikon for a water bottle and became the world’s most confused sixth man.
The Stat Line That Wouldn’t Impress ChatGPT Let’s be clear: My game was less LeBron, more “LeBarelyFunctional.” Highlights included:
3 steals: Achieved by wildly flailing at passes like a caffeinated octopus.
2 assists: Both were accidental passes to the opposing team, rebounded by allies.
1 block: A miracle swat that left me sprawled on the concrete, questioning life choices.
6 shots, 1 make: The lone basket? A desperation heave that banked in off a pigeon’s ghost.
Yet somehow, we won. Turns out, hustling like a raccoon at a dumpster party has its merits.
Post-Game Takeaways
Lens Lessons: The 58mm f/1.4? Gorgeous for static drama—think benchside tension, sneaker tread close-ups. For action? Stick to the 105mm.
Athletic Humility: Nothing kills ego faster than airballing a free throw while teens yell “It’s okay, Uncle!”
Photography ≠ Spectating: Stepping into the frame—literally—reminded me why sports photography thrills: it’s about kinetic energy, not just light.
As I limped home, camera strap denting my shoulder, I realized: Manual focus and pickup basketball have the same core rule—embrace the chaos, forgive the misses, and chase the next shot like it’s your last.
After the sleet surrendered, Beijing exhales a sapphire sky— clouds dissolve into spun sugar, wind sheds its iron teeth.
This German lens, once sworn to contrast sharp as Black Forest pines, to colors steeped in Rhine wine, hesitates before such tenderness.
In the RAW womb of light, I knead shadows like dough— temper the steel-edged gradients, let pixels breathe chrysanthemum tea.
Now the frame remembers: how March air hums between ancient eaves, how dust motes cling to willow’s first yawn. Zeiss optics, schooled in Teutonic precision, learn to trace the curvature of time—
a city’s slow blink, softened by dynasties of thaw.
sony a7s with ziess jena 35mm f2.4sony a7s with ziess jena 35mm f2.4
Hey there, I’m Little White, a clever pup who loves lounging on the couch and watching the world go by. Recently, my owner took me out for a sneaky stroll to the streets, and wow—what a treasure trove of photo opps! Tonight, I squinted out the window, streetlights twinkling, as the night turned those cyclists and motorbike riders into my very own “moving stars.” Check out that pic—folks zooming by on bikes and scooters, racing through the intersection like they’re late for the next big adventure… or maybe just trying to beat the traffic light! I couldn’t help but wonder—humans, with all that speed, would you need me to lick your bruises if you wipe out?
The real laugh, though, is that dinosaur balloon tied to the fence at the crossroad! It’s slouched over like it’s saying, “Hey, pup, I’m lazier than you—wind blows, and I just sway. Pretty cool, huh?” I stared at it, nearly cracking up—clearly the inflatable “roadblock star” is putting on a deep, thoughtful act. The cars whiz by like a shiny river, red and green lights flashing, while people hustle through life—some grinning, some frowning. I come and go here, watching them live, laugh, and worry, and it’s like I’ve picked up a bit of life’s meaning myself. Maybe tomorrow I’ll nudge my owner to get me a camera to snap these street “actors”—though, of course, the real star should be me!
On the left is in JPG format, and on the right is in RAW format.
Light carries its own fingerprints. Morning sun etches cool silver into shadows, while dusk dips everything in amber—yet cameras often misinterpret these whispers. This is where RAW files grant us grace. Like a painter’s palette holding pure pigments, they preserve light’s true temperament, letting you redefine “neutral” with a click. Adjusting white balance isn’t merely fixing colors; it’s resurrecting the moment’s essence—the golden-hour glow on a dog’s fur, not the camera’s clumsy guesswork.
On the left is in JPG format, and on the right is in RAW format.
Consider this winter riverscape: afternoon sun dancing on steel-blue currents, bare birch branches stretching skyward like nature’s calligraphy. An uncorrected RAW might render the scene lifeless—water as artificial turquoise, trees as ashen skeletons. But shift the white balance, and watch the river reclaim its mineral depth, birch bark warm into honeyed textures, while the slender path beneath reveals its earthy russet tones, as if the land itself sighed in relief.
On the left is in JPG format, and on the right is in RAW format.
Or consider the white rabbit—its fur initially rendered as chalky monotony. With calibrated warmth, subtle shadows emerge between strands, transforming a flat silhouette into a creature you might feel stirring. The magic lies not in saturation, but in restoring light’s gentle gradients.
On the left is in JPG format, and on the right is in RAW format.
Even dawn’s first blush suffers in JPG’s haste. That rooftop sunrise, raw and uncorrected, might reduce the sun to a faded blood orange. But tease the white balance, and watch it ignite—a molten sphere bleeding crimson into the urban silhouette, its rays now textured like rippling silk.
On the left is in JPG format, and on the right is in RAW format.
And in humble moments: a cabbage cradled in hands under cool light. The JPG’s bluish cast turns its leaves to washed-out jade, flattening veins and folds. Yet in RAW, a nudge of warmth coaxes out its verdant truth—crinkled leaves regain their crisp topography, dew drops catching sunlight like liquid emeralds.
JPGs lock light in a rushed interpretation, like a scribbled note. RAW, however, keeps the conversation open. Whether you seek the crisp truth of midday or the warmth the scene deserved, white balance becomes your quiet dialogue with light itself—a chance to honor how the world felt, not just how the sensor saw it.
These images were taken with Sony A7s and Contax 40mm-80mm f3.5.
Modern photography obsesses over bokeh arms races—f/1.4! f/0.95!—while forgetting 1970s optical witchcraft. Enter macro extension tubes: hollow metal rings that turn humble f/2.8 lenses into bokeh dragons. Mount a Yashica ML 35mm f/2.8 via $30 adapter, add 16mm of extension, and suddenly:
Focus distance shrinks from 0.3m to 0.15m
Effective aperture blooms to f/1.2 (mathematically)
Backgrounds melt into Van Gogh swirls
Science? More like smoke and mirrors with EXIF data.
sony a7s with yashica ml 35mm f2.8
II. Gear Alchemy: From Trash to Treasure
1. The Poverty Spec
Item
Cost
Role
Yashica ML 35mm f/2.8
$80
Bokeh engine (Contax CY mount)
Fotodiox CY-E Adapter
$25
Frankenstein’s neck bolt
K&F 16mm Macro Tube
$18
Aperture loophole pick
Total
$123
vs. $5,800 Leica Noctilux
2. The Math of Deception Extension (mm) = (Desired Magnification) × (Focal Length) For 0.5x mag: 16mm tube + 35mm lens = portrait alchemy
Nowadays, when you can grab almost anything from the supermarket, I’ve noticed how little I interact with nature anymore. My most recent “nature moment” came from peeling back the rind of an orange – that bright citrus scent lingered on my hands like bottled sunshine. Realizing this, I immediately reached for my camera. Maybe you can catch a hint of its scent through the image.
