The Death of the 50mm
I stuffed my 50mm lens—wrapped in a yellow handkerchief—into my left, 16oz boxing glove and placed the boxing glove deep in my 40L backpacker bag for safe keeping during transportation from JFK to the Dominican Republic. I thought I was so smart.
16oz of padding. Saving space in my bag. Genius, I thought.
It was over a week after arriving before I went to my bag, on a total whim, to pull it out. Maybe take the lens for a spin around the block on my new camera in this foreign place.
I unlaced the dark red glove and began pulling at the handkerchief wrapped lens, all the while thinking to myself I almost never use this lens. I shoot almost exclusively with my 30mm.
Just as these thoughts passed through my mind, the lens rolled out of my hand and crashed right into the tiled flooring.
I stared at it on the ground.
Maybe it’s okay, I thought.
I scooped it up. Rattling. Crunching.
I took off an end cap and glass and parts exploded to the ground.
And that’s how I came to shoot exclusively with a 30mm lens.
Dominican Republic. July 17, 2016.