Bokeh Of Barbed Wire

If you are British and of a certain age, you'll remember the very edgy drama from the 70's with a similar title to the above, and I am sorry - I couldn't resist it. Later FBs will no doubt contain similar puns.
You had better sit back down too, as this morning's FB will tax you like no other. You'll either jump from your seat, shouting 'Balderdash!', sending flocks of toast-crumb birds across the table, or else you will go and grab a camera and try it out and then say 'What the . . .?'
You see, a lot of photographers these days are totally crazy about bokeh. Bokeh this, bokeh that, bokeh the other. In case you didn't know, bokeh is a term coined (I believe . . correct me if I am wrong) by Mike Johnston, prolific columnist and all-round great writer. It is loosely based on the Japanese term for an elderly brain at work - bokashi  and it sort of loosely means senility, or lack of focus.  It refers to the out of focus areas produced in any photograph, and is generally these days defined as being either good or bad! 
I am British, and it seems funny quoting something based on a foreign language especially when it is such a hip word, so (and you read it here first) I'll introduce the British acronym OOFA (Out Of Focus Areas). I've never read of anyone saying oofa, so it'll do for me!
As I said, those crazy guys and gals . . it drives you mad. A lens has to be razor sharp AND show pleasant oofa or else it is generally regarded as rubbish. Now obviously lens designers should know what they are doing, but also photographers should know what they are doing too. Yes certain lenses produce far more pleasant oofa images than others, there is no getting round that, but this obsession with it has taken it somewhere it was never meant to go.
There are about a billion images out there with people shooting lenses wide open and commenting on the oofa - it has actually become rather a trend that is also seen on TV and in films. It is actually like Group f64 (look it up!) never happened. No longer is it enough to have a sharp lens, but that lens has to operate in a razor fashion at its widest aperture, AND the oofa has to be a perfect blur, none of the strange stuff you get with mirror lenses and it definitely can't be jaggy (a Scots word meaning jagged).
The thing that most photographers fail to realise, is that good to excellent oofa can be coaxed out of most lenses, so long (and here is the kicker) as you are focussing in on something quite close. It simply isn't enough to focus on something 12 feet away and start commenting on whether the out of focus bits are good or bad. You need to get in close, and by that I mean pretty much as close as you can focus with your lens. In the case of one of my favourite lenses (the 35mm f2.8 Nikkor) that distance is  0.3 meters, or a little under 1 foot. At these sort of distances oofa is very prominent.
By the way the f2.8 35mm Nikkor is universally disparaged as being a not so great lens in Non-AI and AIS versions. What you need is a late AI one. These are know as the K series, and have 6 elements in 6 groups - they are very different to the later versions. I've compared this 'rubbish' lens with a lens which  has great oofa (the Pentax SMC-M 50mm f1.4 - a lens Mr Johnston recommends as his paupers 'Leica For A Year' lens) and you know what - there's precious little difference as far as I can see. Both lenses operate very well and produce pleasing images if used properly.
Anyway, try this for yourself. Focus as close as you can go at an angle to say the spine of a book in a bookcase, and check out the background. Beautifully out of focus, Now move back a bit (say, just over 2 feet) and focus on that same book spine from the same angle and look at the background. You haven't actually changed anything except the focus, and yet the oofa is very different. It is more defined, and the objects within it are also more defined. Now do the same thing at about 4 feet. Background is really clearly defined; 6 feet, ditto. You haven't changed a thing except focus. And just to make sure you aren't going nuts get back in to your minimum distance. Look how the background goes.
Actually you can almost forgo this altogether and just set your lens to its minimum focal distance and look at something distant (say about 8-10 feet away) and gradually focus on it watching your focus screen as you do it and seeing how the blur is slowly rendered into focus. If you have an autofocus camera, focus on something close and the slowly pan away so that your aparatus of the devil can focus on something about 12 feet away and just watch your screen. Admittedly this will be less successful, because most AF systems are very fast, and also because focus screens on the back of cameras are pretty much inherently terrible.
Personally,  I think there is nothing prettier than an image on a 'proper' ground glass or focus screen.
Now obviously focussing in close isn't really quite the thing, especially when you want to get Aunty Maureen and the kids in the picture, but rather than plonking them over there and having acres of space within the picture frame. Move in close, fill the frame as much as possible. At least that way any Gnarly Oofa* can be less distracting.
What I haven't mentioned so far are two other factors that seem to be forgotten about in the quest for nice oofa . .  .those of the focal length of the lens you are using, and a strange and unquantified one, the number of aperture blades. I intend to write a whole FB about the latter later on. But in the case of the former, you will get differing effects with how much background is compressed by the lens you are using. You know what I mean, the perspective with a long lens is totally different to that from a normal or a wide, and as such the oofa is more, how shall we say, obvious with a longer lens.**
You could really go nuts if you wanted to, examining this that and the other - testing lenses in this way has become the whole drive of a lot of peoples hobbies rather than the actual point of it, which is surely to make good images.
I am sure that Mr.W.Eugene Smith never thought to himself: 'Gosh I wish the bokeh was better in that picture.'
It simply doesn't matter that much.
Obviously if the background is smooth then it renders a more pleasing image to the eye, and also helps the subject stand out, however if it isn't, who cares?
Surely the whole point of a photograph is the subject matter.

The above is a young man I met in my travels - his name was Alec Turnips (to get that, you have to put on a heavy Scots accent). The lens was a 50mm f1.4 Nikkor-S.C.
The oofa in this picture I think is really good. The photograph was made with the lens at either f1.4 or f2 - I would probably say the former though.
Film was Fuji Neopan 400 at EI 320 and developed in Barry Thornton's 2-bath. Mr.Turnips was unimpressed however . . .but that is youth for you.
As with any portrait, I will pass on advice given to me by Mr. Joseph McKenzie, and that is this -  pretty much any portrait will only live if you have a catchlight in the eyes (the catchlight is that tiny sparkly bit you can see in the eye). And it is true.
Oh and if you are photographing B&W, ignore your meter and place the skin tones on Zone VI. In other words overexpose by 1 stop - it works.

* A particularly nasty villain in an early Dickens novel
** If you have any comments on this please feel free -  it would be nice to get some!

Is It Real, Or Is It Memorex?

What is that rumbling sound I hear up ahead. Oh dear, I do believe it could be the sound of another working week heading straight towards us. If you are reading this and you are getting yourself together for another week in the hamster wheel, then my commiserations. If you are more of the 'leisure class' then my congratulations to you - it must be very nice to be relaxing into another day. It's the only way to get up really. Just be sure you don't leave that light bulb on more than you have to.
Back in the late 70's there was a brand of cassette tape called Memorex. Their advertising tag-line was 'Is It Real, Or Is It Memorex'. I've always liked that line, because it implies that there might well be a lot more going on in the world other than what you are aware of. In their case, I did not particularly like their brand of cassette as they were prone to lose their oxide at the drop of a hat, however the line was enough to make me buy a couple of packs of tape just in case!
It has actually made me realise (now, roughly 30-odd years later) that the world can be viewed in a number of different ways. This is why I now find myself photographing reflections and shop signs, because there is an inherent air of unreality in these things. What is going on? Are these things living out secret little lives that no one knows about? As mad as that seems,in certain images, there is quite often an interesting juxtaposition of photographic elements that can, if you think hard enough about what you are seeing, create a story in your head.
Thinking about taking a photograph in this way can help enormously.
And it can come down to, are you a 'The world is my frame' or 'The frame is my world' sort of person?
There are really several ways of taking a photograph as far as I am concerned:
1./ A direct (and if you are lucky) passionate response to the world around you - masters like Wynn Bullock and Ansel Adams excelled at this. When I say passionate response I mean that though they might have recorded the ordinary, they have created an image in which you can clearly sense the extraordinary. Sounds stupid? It isn't. It is a deeply unfashionable way of making a photograph these days.
2./ A direct recording of the world. The world is as you see it in the frame. I was here. I saw this. I did this. I photographed this. That's it.
3./ The frame is YOUR world. I am the master of this world. I can create this. I can imply this. I can say something that might not necessarily be what you are seeing. Ralph Gibson does this perfectly. There is story and implicit double meaning in a lot of his work. I like that.
This is all getting rather heavy for a Monday morning isn't it, when all you want is a piece of toast and a cup of coffee.
All I am really trying to say is this: before you go out with your camera and snap away (or spray away if you are digital user and don't want the discipline of 1 frame per photograph) think before you take that photograph. Experiment a bit with an empty camera. Try and look at the world in a different way. Would this be improved if I moved in as close as possible? Would it be improved if I changed my point of view and knelt down, or conversely if I risked breaking my neck by jumping up onto that wall and looking down on the subject matter? What if I placed that figure at the extreme edge of frame and then didn't focus on them? What if I moved back slightly so that new element was in there too so that now it just doesn't look like a snap, but something that has been thought about?
Once you start moving outwith the bog standard 'you-stand-there-I'll-stand-here' mode of taking a photograph and actually start thinking about things before you press the shutter, you might well find an improvement in your photographs. You'll be able to say: "I know it's weird hon, but I like it."
I rather went on a ramble there. Sorry.
Oh, and your FB will probably be moving to a more occasional basis from today - when I say occasional, I mean probably a couple of times a week as I don't want to bore you too much.

The above was made with Rollei RPX 400 at EI 400 and developed in HC110 Dilution G. Camera was a Nikon F2 and the lens was the ubiquitous 35mm f2 Nikkor-O. It was a bleedin' freezing cold morning and everywhere I looked there was condensation.

"I know it's weird hon, but I like it."  

Son Of Weekend FogBlog

This morning, I found myself twixt the horns of a dilemma. Do I go with the easy access, open backed, mule type slipper, or do I go for the full monty Grandad-style fully encapsulated but less easy to just slip on and off style of slipper? As you can tell, if themes like this are being contemplated, it can only be one thing . . yes, it's another Weekend FogBlog!
 I used to wear nothing but the feet I was born with, and found this a very comfortable way of moving around the house. This was until one holiday when we were staying in George Bernard Shaw's house in Dublin . . ok, it is actually a hotel now, and a very nice one too. However, one evening I decided that it might be a good idea if I really whacked my right set of toes off the leg of a bed, so hard that I would be crippled for the rest of our holiday. This I proceded to do, and you know what, I have worn slippers ever since. So, as I said at the start I am now in the depths of dilemma, as my £5 Asda specials are falling apart, and I am undecided as to what sort to choose. So there is a handy little poll to the right to help you to help me. I really am not sure. Thank you.
Anyway, what have slippers got to do with photography? Precious little as far as I can tell, though they do keep your tootsies protected, which made me think, A-ha! And I have pondered long and hard about this and have decided to do a wee post about camera cases. Possibly the most dull thing I can think of, and yet, useful. There are a plethora out there and all to a lesser or greater degree are useful. What I would say though is that I am sad to see the demise of the ever-ready case. Admittedly, a lot of them were rather hopeless, however find a battleship model like a CTTZ for a Nikon F, or a CH-4 for an F2, or an original Leicaflex ever-ready, and you have a thing of great and lasting beauty that will amaze you in its sheer out and out toughness. These were tough cameras, and the cases made them even tougher.
On that exciting note, I shall bid you adieu until Monday when together we can meet the juggernaut that is the working week with our crash helmets on.

The above was taken as I fell from a great height with nothing to protect me save a Nikon F2 in a CH-4 ever-ready case. Yes they are that tough.
Film was TMY2 400 at EI 320. developer Barry Thornton's 2-bath.
When I landed, I picked myself and carried on walking.

Be Prepared

A-Harrrrr me hearties what was that a creakin' out beyond the reef that waylaid your Goode Shippe FogBlog? Yes it was none other than the bad pirate Blackie Master Homework and his evil crew. Seems like Blackie (as we call 'im round these parts) is a panickin' because he feels his crew is ill-prepared for battle, Well he might worry!  Those decks haven't been caulked in months and the riggin' is worn out; the canons are a showin' a nice patina of rust and the ship's cat is still floatin' in the grog. And as every pirate knowes cats need to sink to give the grog some power! In other words he was ill-prepared for battle. His guiles were obvious, for we smelled him on the morning breeze and it was but a walk-over for the Goode Shippe FB,  though it did take us a few days to shake him off out beyond the Sargasso.

Was there any point to that? Well no and yes! If you are a teacher, make sure your class is prepared for exams and knows what the hell is going on; if you are a student, make sure you are prepared for exams and have asked the teacher what the hell is going on!
Sheephouse's Third Law states: There are three ways to prepare for anything (especially anything photographic) and these are:

1./ Be Prepared

2./ Be Prepared

and (wait for it)

3./ Be Prepared

Photographically this means knowing your camera and your chosen media inside and out.
Does your shutter lag just a millisecond every time you press the shutter?
Do you compensate for it?
Can you focus your lens without looking through the camera?
Do you know how your lens renders in focus and out of focus areas?
No?
Can you watch someone passing by you, lift your camera to your eye, press the shutter and remove it from your eye in a split second, knowing that you have got something really rather good?
Again, No?
Then you are not prepared.
Henri Cartier-Bresson called being prepared for that one key bit of photographic timing  'The Decisive Moment', and though that is an obvious call, I like the term - it is all about preparation! If you look up some of the Gary Winnograd videos on youTube, you'll see a master of that style at work. He knows his camera, he quickly checks it, lifts it to his eye, makes the photo, holds the camera loosely in one hand and smiles at the person walking by who is wondering why a stranger has just take their photo. It is genius at work.
Unfortunately for me, for most of my photographic life, I have been a master of 'The Indecisive Moment' - the following story is a good example.
Many years ago I was making a very very early trip out for a hillwalk. I was driving through hilly country and was passing by two iron age hillforts just as the sun was starting to lighten the horizon. The vista was incredible. If you can imagine the hillforts to my right and right in front and to the left of me a huge sweep of fields and hedgerows leading down to a plain. You could see for miles right to the North Sea. Happenstance had made it so that right in front of me was a field full of cows. They were all lying down and were all perfectly still and watching the sun rise! The light was very slight and the cows were barely just visible, but it was like they had been carefully arranged just for me. It was like nothing I had ever seen. If I had been prepared I would have had the camera in a handy place, and more importantly I would have known the best way to have taken the photograph. As it was, by the time I had figured what I should do to make the most of it, the cows reverie was disturbed and they had started getting up and mooving around. Man was I disappointed. I still carry the image in my head it was so great.
So, as the saying goes, 'Chance Favours The Prepared Mind'. be prepared, spend a lot of time with your camera, know it's workings and the the feel of everything, and if you are lucky you might just have your own Decisive Moment.

Although hardly a Decisive Moment, the above pleases me. I like cows, and I especially enjoy the fact that the one on the right is staring me down whilst the other two flee. The place is God's Own Country - Scotland.
The film was TMY2 400 at EI 320 developed in Barry Thornton's 2-bath. Camera was a Nikon F2 and the lens was that 35mm f2 Nikkor again. I am especially happy with the tonality.
Sad to think the cows are all probably just memories of a nice meal now.

Learn The Basics

Greetings people (person?) I hope today is a nice one for you - it's a little overcast here, but quite mild for the time of year.
Today's FB is about a little-regarded thing in this wonderful world where designers and inventors have made everything so easy you really don't even have to think about what you are doing. Rather like this blog actually, I just type away add a photo and click a few buttons and the whole thing is out in the wide-world, and I didn't even have to know how to write code or anything! Yes the modern world is an incredibly strange place, and nowhere more so than in photography.
At the risk of sound like an ageing old git here, a modern digital camera will teach you virtually nothing. Yes you can point it at something, and click a button and capture what you see (rather like people used to with fully-automatic film cameras too - and I was never a fan of them either) but have you any idea of what you have just done or do you even really care? Well, for the majority of people the majority of the time it is fine, and I suppose that is ok. But if you really want to pursue things further you simply have to start thinking about what you are doing.
I'm not going to start pontificating and saying you should do this and do that, but if you're reading this you're on a computer. Just Google something like 'photography basics' and it'll tell you all about the interaction between light and time and aperture. It really is almost as simple as that.

If you're brave you can even wing exposures.
Gasp - a large proportion of light-meter wielding enthusiasts find that their false teeth are now lodged in the opposite wall.
Black and White film has such an incredible ability to deal with our mistakes that you can do almost anything and the results are going to come out semi-ok (Google 'Sunny 16' if you're interested, though in my part of the world it tends to be 'Sunny 11').
The above was winged - hard to believe it was made at dusk on a Winter's afternoon, but it was - Speed was 1/30th of a second, Aperture was probably f2 or f2.8.
Film was Tri-X at EI 320. it was a bit overexposed, but you don't really notice.  It was processed in HC110 Dilution G, which is a compensating dilution.
The exposure was totally guessed by me because the meter on the Nikon F I was using wasn't working properly.
A chimp with a steady hand could have produced this picture (but he would have had to have known something about how film photography works).
Oh and the lens was a very old 35mm f2 Nikkor - how I love that lens.

I've Got A Camera . . And I Am Going To Beat It To Death

Hail and well met Goode Fellowes! I thought it was you that I had aspied entering the Teeth Of Hell.
Yes it's a fresh working week and the Monday FogBlog is up and about and ready to do many revolutions in the old Hamster Wheel that is paid employment.
Today's FB has a rather vicious title and you may wonder why (as a lover of cameras and all things photographic) I have chosen to mention the unmentionable. My answer to that would be something along the lines of 'because it needs to be mentioned'.
I'm not being funny, but there's a lot of people out there who say they love photography, but have a very funny way of showing it. Yes they purchase some truly horrendously expensive equipment and yes they use it. But often (and I have seen a few believe me) they use it to the point of destruction. Their wonderful, expensive 'jewel' of a machine is treated like a lowly curr on the edge of the village. It's beaten, it's left out in horrendous weather, it's starved of affection. Some people really don't deserve to own cameras, because they beat seven shades of s*** out of them. I've seen lenses cleaned with sandpaper (not literally, but you know what I mean), , base plates and prisms beaten and dented, shutters with remnants of film from a film tear, you name it, it's all out there. Cameras where the paint inside the spool chamber is worn away because the camera has seen about 36 trillion rolls of film, split shutter blinds from curious fingers, lenses that are filled with grit . . . you get my point I hope.
Think of it this way, certainly in the case of Nikons, their professional cameras are tested to a duty cycle of approximately 150,000 operations. I believe this means that they say the shutters are good for at least 150,000 rolls of film. Most 35mm film is in 36 exposure cassettes. You load your film and it usually takes 3 winds to get the film counter to 1, and then there's the usual 2 winds at the end as well, so roughly 40 to 41 winds per roll of film. Now wait for it, that little wind-on lever, based on the 150,000 cycle theory sees approximately 6 million operations!
It's a sobering thought isn't it, because obviously the shutter is tied to the wind-on mechanism, so your average unserviced professional camera shutter could have seen that many actuations as well. And here's the cracker, your average pro will have traded in that camera, and the camera shops will probably be advertising it as E+, which in the wonderful loosey-goosey world of camera descriptions means 'Signs Of Use'. You have no guarantee at all about the inner workings of a camera and how much it has been used. The camera might be in beautiful condition, but that little shutter will be a knackered old donkey in need of some TLC. You might find a 'beater' (how I hate that phrase) that is bashed and a bit grizzly, but has been serviced, in which case you know what the best choice would be. People often seem allergic to camera servicing, which is a shame, as it often just needs a small amount of work to bring things back to speed. Yes it costs money, but if you care about what you do, then it is money well spent.

The picture above was taken with a late '50's Minolta Autocord Twin Lens Reflex. It has the legendary Rokkor lens, and is in a Seikosha shutter which is still the most accurate mechanical shutter I own. The camera has no body-covering at all now - it's a project. The lens . . .well sandpapered is all I can say (but not by me) and that has contributed to a lower contrast. Back in the day though, this must have been a hell of a lens. Shame it has seen so much abuse. I like this photo though . . the dog looks like he is contemplating something really bad, like nicking some sausages.
Film was Acros 100, developed in Bary Thornton's 2-bath (yet again).

Up Close & Personal

Listen. What's that sound? It's like a cross between a lonely sea monster (thank you Mr. Ray Bradbury) and a fog horn, way out beyond the reef, where the dark ocean starts to shelve away to night. Yes, its the sound of another FogBlog!

On that salubrious note, I will greet one and all a jolly good morning.

Today's post deals with an oft overlooked (and much beloved by me) accessory for ye olde Rolleiflex, namely the Rolleinar. These close-up lenses were made in 3 different magnifications namely #1, #2 and #3. As close-up lenses they excel - you've never seen anything as sharp, you've never seen 'bokeh' as nice. They are extraordinarily good, and parallax corrected too. The people behind the design of the Rolleiflex really thought everything through - everything fits and everything works so well, you rarely have to think much about accessories at all.

However despite their abilities as close-up lenses, one day I discovered another use for them. Messing around, I focused in really close on something and then changed my view so that what I was seeing was something from nearer infinity, and bingo, I discovered that by racking the focus in and out on subject matter that wasn't a close-up, you had a wonderful, variable soft focus lens.

I love Clarence White's photographs, and I also have a massive respect for anything from the Photo Secession, and I found that by using the Rolleinars in this way I could achieve a faux Pictorialist effect. I think it works, if you like what you see, feel free to comment.

This photograph was taken in some woods on the edge of a caravan site we were staying at at Crocketford in Dumfriesshire; the weather had been the usual mix of shower-dodging and things were getting really stormy quite early. What I think about this photograph is that it can either be threatening or friendly.  You could get a feeling of threat from it (as in nothing is as clear as it seems; what is that shadow lurking up ahead? etc etc) but to me it is more friendly and hopefully touching on some of that Pictorialist Romanticism whilst being a tad ethereal at the same time.
Who'd have thought some densely planted Pine and Birch could have been so transformed by light.
Camera was my old Rolleiflex T, with a Rolleinar #1 fitted. Film was TMX 100 developed in Barry Thornton's 2-bath developer. It was a cinch to print on Grade 2 paper, and I printed it slightly lighter as the original lighting was a bit too oppressive.
In the words of Joe Satriani: I like it. 

Lucky Findings

Morning, as they say around these parts, and it is. Not as cold as it has been thank goodness.
This post is going to extol the sheer enjoyment of walking around with the right camera.
You're probably muttering to yourselves, what? and you could well be right. I wander a lot with a 35mm camera and it is fine, but there's certain things that deserve the breadth of greys that you will only get with 120-size film.
The strange thing about this is, that just using medium format isn't always a guarantee of tone. My main camera for a number of years was a 1960's Rolleiflex T - quite possibly (well any Rollei really) one of the greatest cameras ever invented; negative size was the ubiquitous 6x6 cm,  however I have at times struggled to get a spaciousness of grey tones.
A number of years ago I had a Pentax 67 for a very short time - it was great but totally unreliable, as well as having the loudest shutter on the planet (akin to a bird scarer actually). I returned it to the vendor, and missed it like mad. Last year I had the opportunity to buy a Koni-Omega Rapid 100 - yes it has problems like the film advance which is the most strange thing ever, and its rangefinder is a tad dim, but the lens, gosh it's a beauty. Mine is the 90mm Super Omegon a direct descendent of the original Hexanon in a different shutter. It's a Tessar design, but actually one of the very sharpest lenses I own.  Very versatile, AND attached to the correct 'walkabout' camera (see where I am going here) just the thing for wandering around with just in case the unexpected turns up . . .which in this case it did. It wouldn't have looked half as nice in 35mm.

This TriCool machine was pure happenstance, found in some old mill buildings along the road from me. What it was for I have no idea . . however it was obviously three times cooler than any other machine on the planet.
The scan doesn't do the negative justice. Film was TMY2 400 at EI 400, developed in the rather marvellous HC110 Dilution G. This was a compensating dilution as extolled by Mr. Ansel Adams, and I really like it. HC 110 is very active, but using this dilution semi-stand gives an enormous palette of greys. The camera was handheld, and yes, the white specks everywhere are what you think they are - God bless the pigeon.
There y'go, you've maybe learned something and it wasn't too painless was it.

Early Beginnings

Och well - its 2012 and I have just caught up with the world. Funny how you sometimes need an empetus to do things, and that to me was Carl Radford liking my photographs and posting them as part of the Scottish Photographers site.
I've been a member of Scottish Photographers for a couple of years now, and it really is a diverse bunch of people . .
Anyway, the main concern of this blog is probably going to be the one creative endevour I have stuck with - namely photography. and yes I know, there's a ton of other photography blogs out there.
I hope to be a tad different in that I feel very strongly that the art form I really love has been undermined by the equivalent of 'white goods' salesmanship - namely the 'digital revolution'. I know, you'll be stroking your beards and going 'but isn't he using that self-same revolution to publish this?'  . . and you'd be right, however rather than get into the film vs. digital argument and at the risk of sounding like a curmudgeonly old fool, I'll just say, I use film. I have tried digicams and I don't like them, so B&W film it is - anything I can get my hands on really, though a preference for Kodak. Cameras are old - Nikons, a Rollei, a Wista, a Sinar and a Koni-Omega.
What else do you need to know? Well, I owe my love of this entirely to one person - the great Scottish photographer Joseph McKenzie. I was fortunate enough to be tutored by him back in the '80's and he was an inspirational man - a master photographer AND printer. In a word he epitomised the word 'photographer' - to me he is just the same as the likes of another hero of mine: W. Eugene Smith. These chaps had control of the whole creative process from making the photograph to printing the final interpretation, and I think to an extent that has been lost.
Yes you can do it with digital, but how much creative control do you have? You are using exactly the same software as everyone else. Tweaking to the nth degree the same as everyone else.
I (on the other hand) am using the same chemicals as everyone else, but minute variations in everything make it more of a creative process to me. It's a craft, and I am proud to be part of it.
It was interesting to see that the Winnipeg FreePress sees us 'analog' types as a 'counter-culture' - that made me smile very much indeed!
Sorry - I don't mean to turn off any digital users out there either - you're all welcome
Oh, and why 'FogBlog'? Well it is easier to type than 'PhotographyBlog' and hopefully I'll get to confuse the world a bit, like it can be when you are out hillwalking and a mist blows in.

And yes that hill was that steep - it is the Kilbo Path and though clearly defined can still be an eerie place when the mist comes down.