Back in the day when camera phones were first becoming popular, I just had to have one. I'll admit up front to being a gadget person, but it was more than that. The opportunity to capture pictures anywhere I carried my cell phone really impressed me. In fact, I justified the cost (a whopping $70) with all the times I had wished for a camera when confronted with particularly humorous or memorable situations.

Ironically, those early camera phones lacked a lot in terms of their ability to produce “usable” photos – images I could take to the one-hour photo or even print out on my home computer.

The real revolution came when my Lumix replaced the bigger, clunkier digital camera I had been carrying. The Lumix fit in my pocket or purse no matter what the occasion, freeing me to take high-quality pictures whenever (and wherever) I deemed it necessary.

Well, on Saturday, as we were celebrating many birthdays over butternut squash soup and Portal cake, tragedy struck. After years of flawless performance, the LCD backlight on the Lumix – which has no viewfinder – quit mid-event. Now you see it, now you don't. I switched the camera on again after leaving it on a side table and...nothing. The most painful irony struck when I realized I could still take pictures, I just couldn't see them.

So, after an eventful two years, that camera and I are calling it quits. Luckily this has all transpired very close to Christmas, so certain nervous, idea-less husbands in this house are less than traumatized (more on that in a couple weeks, I suspect).

Meanwhile, I'm camera-less for the next week and a half. Granted, I still have the D80, but it's more valuable, less pocketable, and sometimes just overkill for the situation. I am amazed at how quickly I built an expectation of images at the ready. My hard drive is densely populated with images of funny scenes in the office, ludicrous and/or striking sights along my (walking) commute, and delicious meals I have made. The thought of losing that capability for over a week drives me more than a little batty.

Luckily, I still have my camera phone, whose technology has come a long way since the bulky, low-res model I owned years ago.

Today I prepared a little something about thinking and writing about my work on a regular basis, and how that process is essential to having materials at ready for exhibition opportunities. Then I came home from work and discovered my free mini-card samples in the mailbox.

I recently took advantage of the 10 free cards Moo offers to new Flickr Pro users. Moo interfaces with your Flickr account, making it super easy to order business cards, mini cards (half-size, trendy business cards), stickers, postcards, and more.

Tempted though I was to order a full 100 cards right away, I wanted to take advantage of the free sample offer in case I got them and they were low-res, flimsy, or had some other shortcoming I'd regret spending $20 to discover.

What arrived in the mail today proved to me the massive value in giving away free samples. Just like the man at the farmer's market who enticed me into his tent with spicy ginger tea, these cards gave me a little taste and left me feeling like I could not go another day without buying more. They are printed on sturdy card stock with a depth and quality of color that really does the images justice. The proportions are a little odd, so giving someone a card is like giving them a little free sample of your work – hopefully they are intrigued enough to want more.

The back of the card is a blank slate, completely flexible. In addition to my vital contact information, I chose a Creative Commons license and the exposure time of the photo shown on the front of the card (automatically pulled from the image data on Flickr with no added effort anywhere on my part).

I will definitely be ordering a set of 100 of these cards this week. Self-promotion is so important, and at this level it needs to be done in a way that I find fun and comfortable. My husband remarked that these cards are “too pretty to give away.” Hopefully they make that much of an impression on everyone, because I've been searching for the business cards that are “just right” for my personal taste and style and these just may be it.

Today I arrived home from work to find a box at my doorstep.  It was one of those days where I kept thinking about that box and waiting for the moment when I got to rip it open because I knew exactly what was inside: the Lowepro Slingshot 200aw. 

I've wanted one of these camera bags for a long time but couldn't exactly justify the cost.  Now, with a two-week tour of Europe upon me, I finally have an excuse to get my hands on one.  My current camera bag is woefully inadequate for a long trip: too small for my present array of gear, made for a video camera, and with the standard uncomfortable single strap.  With my bad shoulder, I would never survive entire days of walking around with that thing hanging off my arm, so I'd probably end up doing my usual throw-all-the-camera-gear-in-my-backpack routine.  This strategy leads to stopping to take off the backpack and rummage for a lens, getting left behind by the tour group...not good.

So I got the super-speedy Slingshot, with a single-strap design that is ergonomic yet allows me to swing the back around to my chest for quick access to my gear.  When I tried it out around the house this afternoon it didn't disappoint.  It sits very nice and snugly against my back, thanks in part to the cushy layer of padding it offers my delicate spine.  The strap is also well padded for good weight distribution, and there is a special extra strap that attaches for extra comfort with heavier loads.

Inside the main compartment I easily fit my D80 with a lens attached, my bigger zoom lens, and my SB-600 flash unit, along with a number of little accessories.  The smaller compartment on top is still empty, and I'm saving it for snacks, wallets, etc. during our long days of sightseeing in Europe. A memory card organizer behind a velcro flap in the main compartment will make it easy for me to switch out cards in a hurry.

All in all, this awesome accessory should encourage me to carry my camera non-stop and consequently take more pictures.  And that's what it's all about.  You can skimp on certain gear, but I feel like making your camera comfortable and easy to carry should be priority #1.  I know I've stashed my camera on numerous occasions or made my male counterpart to be a beast of burden because I was sick of lugging it around.  There have also been times when I have taken fewer pictures because I couldn't waste the time stopping what I was doing to put down my bag and get out my stuff.  A comfortable, easily accessible way to carry your camera means more pictures, and that's important.

Hopefully our European adventure will be well-documented and the Slingshot I have coveted for so long will serve me well.  I'm planning to take it on a test run this weekend on a trip to Columbus, Ohio for a visit with friends.   I might not have as many places to carry it around, but I will certainly get to take it as a carry-on when we fly out there, so I'll know what to expect when we fly overseas (sort of).  I know there have been some new flight restrictions on camera batteries, but I'm pretty sure we won't be affected.

So far, I'm pretty impressed.

Since we're having a preliminary meeting with a real estate agent this Wednesday, it's high time to get going on cleaning out my old room at my parents' house.  Once I actually have a basement of my own, I don't want it to be filled with the unsorted mess of my life from ages birth-to-18.

For the most part, this is a chore in the worst way.  Most of these possessions, left behind through three moves already, are useless to me yet hold some kind of nostalgia that makes me hesitate to discard them.  Occasionally, though, I stumble upon a treasure trove.  Such was the case when I found this:

The Kodak Instamatic X-15.  This fabulous piece of plastic was the first camera I ever loved.  At age five I was gleefully snapping away whole rolls, turning them in to my mom and waiting eagerly for her to return with an envelope full of square prints.  The images lack clarity, as can be expected from the Instamatic's low-quality lens, but they document everyday life through the eyes of a child.  Simple as they are, I love my childhood photos because they are spirited and fun and, well, simple.

Somewhat unfortunately, the Instamatic was never truly mine.  An artifact from her own girlhood, the boxy plastic camera belongs to my mother.

However, there was another forgotten camera after all.  The Focal Micro 110 never got much use from me, perhaps because it used big flash bars as opposed to the more readily available flash cubes (does anyone else remember these?).

I find it especially cool because it slides apart to expose the shutter, and this motion also winds the film...kind of reminds me of a shotgun, in a way.