Its Hard To Photograph The Moon
A few nights ago, instead of biking home after getting back from the train station, I stopped at a record store I always pass and always think about stopping in (its always been closed by the time I'm coming back from work). This time though, it was open. I looped around to the sidewalk, found a place to lock my bike up, grabbed my bag off the frame of my bike, and went in to browse.
At first, I wasn't super impressed, but it had only been 10 minutes or so. I dug around, just enjoying getting lost in the rows and rows of records. In no time at all, I had a mental list of probably a couple hundred dollars worth of records I could have bought (but I can't afford that right now). I eventually landed on a really cool repress of Legendary Pink Dots' Four Days, which felt appropriate for the Halloween season, especially in Salem.
After paying for it, I finally noticed there was a PA set up, and asked if there was a show tonight. There was, a Korean musician who played a sort of table top pipe organ and was described as experimental and dark. I was drawn in, and said well, I'm here. And I decided I would stay for the show. Just one act, and then I would go home. He introduced himself as Pain, and as a Satanic organist. Okay, this is Salem so I was prepared for it to be gimicky, especially in the month of October, but I just really liked him as a person. The initial vibes were great. He just had a lot of passion for what he played, and talked about his process at the same time. He wore a long black cloak and played with his back to the audience, and it was a pretty cool thing to just happen upon on my way home from work.
That being said, during the hour he played he had his flukes. I could tell his set wasn't going that well, and despite being as cool as it was, he was having difficulty keeping the pipes in tune with his foot pedals, not to mention there was a louder show in the space next door. He played through though, laughing with us along the way. As much as I was growing tired, and wanted to silently dip out to head back to my cozy apartment to relax, I stayed till the end. I'm glad I was there. I'm glad he was there. I realized, I stayed because I've been in that exact situation, in front of an audience, with my instrument, and I love what I'm doing but I know it didn't sound as good as I wanted it to. We've all been in those situations, whether musical or not. What's important is to support each other through them. Just because its not our night, just because our instrument won't stay in tune, it still matters. Its sometimes the hardest to power through those moments, but when we get to the end, and the audience is still there smiling and applauding, it all feels worth it.
So yes, I stayed, even though my feet were aching and my stomach was hurting because I hadn't eaten since lunch. And it was worth it. It will always be worth it.
It was a nice warm night still, when I walked back to my bike. I unlocked it and decided to walk back, as my record wouldn't safely fit in my bag. It was nice walking through the common under the orange lights glowing in the pre-Halloween night.
When I got to my street, I spied the moon peaking out from in between houses. It was waning yet huge and low on the horizon, and very yellow. A perfect cheddar. Immediately I had the urge to run inside, put my bag, bike, and record away, and grab my camera and tripod to go back out and photograph the moon.
I walked down the street to the wharf, where the ferry to the city gets in, cursing the virulent light pollution casting its orange haze over everything, set up my tripod, mounted my camera on it, and took 5 or 6 photos of the moon.
They didn't come out very good. I had a 100mm lens on, so I didn't have enough of the environment to make an interesting composition, but still didn't have enough focal length to make the moon look like anything othe than a very bright orb. I did like how I captured the movement of the trees in the foreground though. The long exposure blurred them ever so slightly, softened them in a very pictorialist way at the edges. It was kind of like looking at trees in a dream. And the moon was so bright! It was amazing, also this is what made it so hard to photograph. It almost looked sun-like!
Thinking about this, I realized how hard it is to photograph the moon in all its spectacular lunar bliss, and even the night sky for the matter. I made a pact (well, I suppose just a personal goal) to focus more on night photography, and capture the magic of the night sky that we all overlook when we're in our beds, or at home watching tv.
I'm glad I did the hard thing that night, and strayed from my standard routine to go to a new record store, talk to at least one new person, and hear someone perform their music, and support them on their journey.
I'm glad I photographed the moon, because even though it was hard, and the photos came out crappy, I still did it, and that felt good.