My twitter friend Maya and I recently had a brief exchange about old cameras, during which she mentioned a Kodak 1A she found recently--for $2! You can read about her camera and look at her beautiful photos of it here.
This reminded me of my very similar Kodak 3A, which my sisters gave me for Christmas in the 1970s. Not as beautiful or complete as Maya's 1A, I have nonetheless carried it around through countless moves because it is old and amazing.
See the little raised bump in the center of this next photo? The leather has worn off a little and shows an orange-y color underneath. (And gee, could I have maybe wiped the dust off before taking the picture? Sorry about that.)
When you press on that little button, the camera opens up and the bellows lens can be extended.
I love the Gothic lettering of the name Kodak. That metal tab also props the camera up like a little built-in tabletop tripod.
Until I read Maya's post, I didn't know about the autographic feature of this camera--mine no longer has its stylus. I also never seriously entertained the idea of converting it for use with 120 film. I'm an impatient sort and remember too well the frustration of waiting to develop and print film.
But do I appreciate that all this can be done? Absolutely. Even more do I love the ease with which this type of information now flows around. In the mid '70s, this camera was simply a curio, and I vividly recall combing through the big green periodical files at the library in a fruitless search for any information at all about it.
Now I can type its name and instantly learn when it was in production, look at images of different versions, bid on one online, even download an original manual. Or simply open my twitter feed and have a conversation about it. How amazing is that?
Friday, April 2, 2010
The power of Twitter: A couple weeks ago, I retweeted a link from @DawnSandomeno, a woman I've never met or even, as far as I remember, had any exchange with. The link led to this page.
A local friend immediately got excited and began scavenging for silk ties. A few days later, she tweeted out to her crowd an invitation to dinner and egg dyeing.
She received tweets back with offers of salad, dessert, extra eggs.
Tonight we all gathered.
Here are the ties we started with:
and took them out to cool
There was so much going on that I didn't even think to take pictures of the kids and teens playing games in the garage or of all the delicious homemade food. Music was playing; conversations were going in every corner of the room. And no party can go wrong with an adorable baby and a sweet black lab:
One picture I really wish I'd had was of us unwrapping the first egg, which came out completely white. We were stunned and decided we must not have added enough vinegar. To the next pot, we were more generous and threw in an extra glug or two.
We got some gorgeous results
but the shells seemed curiously fragile. We were puzzled until someone had an aha! moment. Can you figure it out?
Fun projects are passed across the country and stimulate friends to share an evening together. Twitter: frivolous and narcissistic? Not in my book.
I prefer to think of it as a vibrant community gathering.