The Travelwide System

Briefly

Travelwide System

If you love large format photography, you’ll love this. I was made aware of this very cool, lightweight, portable 4×5 camera via this mention on Digital Protography Preview:

Wanderlust’s Travelwide 4×5 camera is small enough to go wherever you go. At 6.3 × 3.9 × 5 inches and 9.7 ounces [Measurements in metric units: 166 × 101 × 128 mm and 275 grams (body only)] it’s relatively compact and definitely lightweight. Constructed of glass-filled ABS plastic, the point-and-shoot camera features a focusing screen, focusing marks on the barrel, and a trio of cold shoe accessory mounts.

The Travelwide comes with a metal sport finder, pinhole lens, and lens attachment tool. You’ll have to supply a standard 4x5 film holder and, if you want to shoot instant film, a 545i Polaroid holder (the 545 should work with a little hacking). 

The Travelwide accepts most 90mm lenses, and it’s designed for the Schneider Angulon 90mm ƒ/6.8 in particular, but the lens is not included (only the pinhole lens is), you’ll have to obtain it separately. The camera is available for preorder (it’ll ship this summer) and costs $149.

Links:

 


  • 1. Yes, the developer of the great Mattebox for iPhone.
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    Pipe tobacco packaging — Part 1

    Et Cetera

    When I was a teenager, smoking cigarettes was a big deal. I had a few schoolmates who started smoking as early as 14. Sneaking out of class and going for a smoke in the restrooms was ‘cool’. Holding a cigarette in your lips was ‘cool’. It helped give you a rebel attitude. You know, the usual stuff. I was never really interested in smoking, though. My mother made sure of that by letting me try one of her Dunhill cigarettes when I was seven or eight years old. I started coughing and the whole experience, albeit very brief, was so disgusting that I never had any doubt regarding cigarettes: no, thanks.

    Then, when I was 21, I discovered pipes and cigars. And that was a totally different way of smoking. For the past twenty years I’ve been an occasional cigar smoker, and a ‘seasonal’ pipe tobacco smoker (meaning I tend to smoke pipes only during the cold season). Over the years I’ve tried a lot of different tobaccos, blends and brands, and I’ve kept many of the pouches and cans. The practical reason was to bring them with me to quickly show tobacconists what I wanted without having to spell out English, Dutch or Danish brand names for them. But I have also held on to pipe tobacco pouches and cans because some of them feature a really nice package design. 

    I wanted to share here some of these designs. The scans aren’t perfect, and there are traces of tobacco here and there. Empty pouches of pipe tobacco can be difficult to place inside a flatbed scanner. 

    Amsterdamer

    Amsterdamer. Dutch by name but manufactured in France (at least at the time the pouch was purchased, 17 years or so ago.) I love the Hollandsche Rooktabak in script typeface under the illustration. Note also the health advisory (“Smoking causes cancer” in Italian) — at the time it blended more with the package design and was less glaring than it is today.

     

    Balkan Sobranie

    Balkan Sobranie №759. A strong British tobacco I can’t find anymore (though admittedly I haven’t really looked online). This pouch in particular still holds a few grams of tobacco, which has held up pretty well over the years. I used to smoke this alone as a substitute for a cup of coffee (no, really), or mixed with other milder mixtures for a sweeter smoke. This has been difficult to scan due to the highly reflective golden elements of the design. The health advisory is barely visible, thankfully.

     

    Three Nuns

    Three Nuns. One of my very favourite British brands. Sweet and a bit spicy (thanks to the perique type of tobacco present in its blend), it’s another I can’t find at local tobacconists. The design of the pouch is nothing to write home about, though I like the Three Nuns sort of modern blackletter typeface. I think this pouch might be more than 15 years old: the health advisory wasn’t yet directly printed on the pouch itself, but added later with a sticker. 

     

    ParkLane7

    Park Lane №7. Made in Denmark. Purchased in Italy some 5–6 years ago. On the back of the pouch, there’s a little reference table: Body: 2 • Aromatic Taste: 4 • Room Note: 3, where 1=low and 5=high. I like the sober, elegant look of the package, it almost feels part of a set of complimentary items they give to customers at luxury hotels.

     

    Saint Claude

    Saint Claude. This was a gift from a friend after a visit to France, mid to late 1990s. This looks like a label from a good Trappist beer.

     

    Skandinavik old

    Skandinavik new

    Skandinavik Mixture. Another Danish tobacco, among my favourites to be smoked at any time of the day. Rich, fruity flavour, a bit toasted. Above you can see the previous package design which I find definitely better than the bland, more recent redesign below. (I can’t say with precision when they changed it. Let’s say that the pouch above is approximately 10–12 years old, while the pouch below is a couple of years old at most.) 

    Old design: Thankfully, the health advisory was printed on the back of the pouch, so that the elegant Navy-themed front design was not affected. I really like the dark blue background, the gold of the rope around the ship and the silver on the borders of the pouch. New design: the change in typeface makes for an uninteresting and average-looking package. (And don’t get me started on things like the ugly kerning of Skandinavik or the choice to capitalise the final K…)

     

    Borkum Riff whiskey

    Borkum Riff whiskey inside

    Borkum Riff — Bourbon Whiskey flavour. I discovered this Swedish brand by accident: I was looking for my usual Skandinavik at a tobacconist’s in the centre of Milan some 15 years ago, and he suggested I gave this a try. It’s the only brand among the ones I used to smoke that I can easily find here in Valencia. I’ve tried many flavours and I like almost all of them. Its Bourbon Whiskey and Cherry flavours are rich, sweet but not exceedingly sweet. 

    Borkum Riff’s packaging has always sported an elegant, refined design. Among the brands I know, Borkum Riff is one of the few which always bothered to make an effort at designing also the inner side of the pouch, as you can see above. This is an old design, the current looks like this. As the linked review says about the current design, From a marketing and branding perspective this is an improvement because of better imagery consistency, but I really prefer older versions, like the one above — or, even better, this one below:

    Borkum Riff Black Cavendish

    Borkum Riff Black Cavendish inside

    Borkum Riff — Black Cavendish. This pouch was sold to me at a later time than the one above, but I believe the design came before. It’s really luscious and imposing with that big coat of arms on the front. But look on the inside, the beautiful calligraphy rendering the Latin motto Verus amicus est tamquam alter idem (A true friend is like another me.) Design-wise, this is my favourite tobacco pouch of the collection.

    In Part 2 I’ll share a few more pouches and some tobacco cans. Stay tuned if you like this sort of thing.

     

    [Link to Part 2]

     

    Four great illustrators

    Briefly

    Sometimes the level of self-absorption I perceive when reading stuff around the Web really puts me off. I’ve always done my best to celebrate other people’s great work on my website, but I feel it’s been a while since I shared my findings. I recently wrote about how I think we should engage more often in the practice of recommending people who are worth following. I was speaking about tech writers in particular, but why stop there, really?

    I’ve recently stumbled on the work of four illustrators, and I just love their style unconditionally. Go visit their websites and take a look at their portfolios; support their work if you like it. I’ll just tease you with one illustration for each artist, their name and some links to their sites and where you can find more of them. Enjoy.

    Jess Douglas

    Rock Point Inn by Jess Douglas

    Jess is from the UK. I really, really love her urban sketches. She writes: Everything I discover around me has potential; urban detritus, peeling paint, vintage sign-writing and filthy concrete structures. I find the ugly and mundane to be beautiful, its character and stories inspiring.

    Her website: Jess Douglas Illustration.

     

    Marcin Wolski

    Sidetrack by Marcin Wolski

    Marcin is from Poland. He draws, paints and does graphic and Web design. My favourites are his paintings and watercolours. 

    His website: Marcin Wolski Portfolio. Other links: Marcin on deviantartMarcin on Behance.

     

    Chloé Yingst

    The Fox and the Grapes by Chloe Yingst

    Chloé is from the US. From her About page: She has a great appreciation for the art of storytelling. She strives to produce beautifully detailed images that encourage close examination — and I can’t but agree. 

    Some links: Her website, chloedraws.comChloé on InstagramChloé on DribbbleChloé on Pinterest.

     

    Giordano Poloni

    Painted Ladies by Giordano Poloni

    Giordano is from Italy. As with Jess Douglas, his urban illustrations are what stands out for me. There’s something about them that reminds me of one of my absolute favourite painters — Edward Hopper. 

    His website: Giordano Poloni Illustrator. He is also on Behance.

    The excessive reliance on technological crutches

    Tech Life

    The items I carry (1996 version)

    Pen, paper, mind maps

    In this picture you can see a rather faithful reconstruction of the items I used to carry everyday in my backpack during my university years, around 1996. I was quite fond of ink and ink-related writing tools. On that ring binder I used to take notes on white sheets of paper (I hated ruled or squared paper), and draw during the most boring classes. In that same binder there was also an agenda/planner section I created, tailored to my needs. The calendar & organiser features provided by the Sharp IQ-7300 M Multilingual databank were nice, but inserting and updating items like appointments, reminders and the like was a bit awkward and impractical for my tastes and habits (the fact that the device had an ABCDEF keyboard layout didn’t help in the least). 

    Pen and paper have always had an important, deep-seated presence in my life. The earliest childhood memories I can recall involve writing and drawing tools: pens, pencils, crayons, papers and notebooks. These tools have brought me two invaluable gifts (for lack of a better word): the passion for writing, and a good memory.

    For me, writing things down (on paper, not typing them in a computer), has always been the key to organising stuff in my head, and to remember bits of information. It has wired my brain in a way that, for simple-to-medium memory and mind mapping activities, I can usually do without pen and paper. This is hardly rocket science, and I guess it’s a common learning technique. Still, I have often surprised people with my ability to remember dozens of different phone numbers, addresses, or the names of all the new people I used to meet at parties or other gatherings. “No, I’m neither an autistic nor an idiot savant,” I used to joke, “I just have good memory.”

    For more complex tasks, I still like writing things down and drawing mind maps; my faithful Newton MessagePad is a nice alternative when I don’t have pen and paper at hand, or when a particular ‘map’ has to be preserved electronically and not just discarded once I acted on it. This physical, low-tech approach is still the most effective for me, especially when I’m writing creatively. Some of my story plots can be convoluted, or sometimes I need to keep a bird’s-eye view of all the relationships among the characters in a novel. All the software applications I’ve tried don’t have the same immediacy as writing a map down on an A4 or A3 sheet. I’ve also tried the iPad + stylus approach: it’s a bit better, but still not optimal. 

    There’s an app for that, but I don’t really need it

    But let’s go back to my good memory. Sometimes people ask me what’s my favourite calendar app (on the Mac, on iOS), and when I say that I don’t use calendar apps, some of my interlocutors think I’m pulling their leg, other react with comments along the lines of “Oh well, evidently you’re not that busy.” (Quite the contrary, actually.) Same goes for to-do apps. What’s my favourite? None, really. Not because the existing to-do apps are not good enough for me, but because I don’t need a to-do app in the first place. At this point people tease me: “Sure, you remember everything you have to do for any given day, don’t you?” Well, yes I do. I also remember all the passwords tied to my most important accounts and services. I have developed a system so that I can create passwords that are both memorable and strong enough. (I have also written them down as a failsafe, of course.) So I don’t really need applications like 1Password. 

    Save it somewhere and forget about it

    The point of all this is obviously not to show off my abilities. It’s to emphasise the importance of keeping one’s memory well-trained, and the importance of organising information (and its intake) in a way that doesn’t make one too dependent on devices and machines. When I mention this subject, I’m either labelled a Luddite, or I usually get the objection that “devices and machines are meant to relieve our minds of boring tasks and the burden of remembering dull information, et cetera, so that our minds can focus on more important, interesting stuff.” 

    The fact is, I don’t think this “save it somewhere and forget about it” approach is being that beneficial to our minds. It’s the ‘forget about it’ part that bothers me, of course, because this approach doesn’t encourage either the retention or the organisation of information into something systematic that eventually becomes knowledge. Instead, this approach encourages forgetfulness and delegation. When something goes wrong, e.g. you’re unable to retrieve the information — or sometimes even the ability[1] — you delegated to a device or application, you get stuck and at times you even ‘short-circuit.’ The other night I was talking with a friend, and he told me how a common acquaintance was facing a bit of an emergency, his phone had died and had to use another phone to call his sister and brother-in-law, but he blanked out when he realised he didn’t remember their phone number. Thankfully their landline phone number was listed in the telephone directory, and he eventually got to call them. (Though admittedly he wasn’t sure about their exact street number, either.) We’re talking about a 25-year-old guy who doesn’t remember somewhat important information about close relatives. 

    If you think this is an isolated case, it’s not. At least according to the (anecdotal — I know) evidence I’ve been collecting lately. In an informal poll via email, I’ve asked my youngest contacts, acquaintances, friends, to answer a few questions, such as:

    • Do you own a smartphone and make extensive use of it?
    • Do you use to-do apps and reminder apps on a regular basis?
    • Can you share some examples of the most common reminders and to-dos?

     

    The demographic is people in the 19–28 age range. So far, 25 people have replied with useful data. The results are interesting and seem to prove my point:

    • 23 out of 25 people own a smartphone. The other two just own a feature phone.
    • 22 out of the 23 smartphone owners use to-do apps and reminder apps regularly.
    • The sheer majority of reminders and to-dos involve extremely simple and mundane things/tasks like “Remember to buy water, milk and bread on the way home,” “Remember to ask X about her exam,” “Go to driving school at 6 PM,” “Phone dad,” “Pick up Y at school” [where Y is the little brother], “Need haircut,” “Plan weekend trip,” and so on.

     

    When I say that the results seem to prove my point, I mean that these people, young people, seem to heavily rely on their devices to be reminded of carrying out even the most trivial stuff — things I find hard to believe one could forget otherwise. I can understand entering dentist’s appointments on their calendar, or other events that are scheduled to happen in a relatively distant future. One may indeed forget about a medical exam (the exact date and the exact hour) when it is in six-seven weeks from now. But setting up a reminder to call your dad or go to your little brother’s elementary school to pick him up? Really? Are people this detached from things and other people they should care about? And what about those reminders to have their hair cut or that they need to plan the trip for the weekend? I wonder what would happen without such reminders: would this person realise with horror, Friday night, that he or she has to go on a trip the following morning and they don’t know what to do or where to go? I would be less surprised if the demographic were people in their sixties. 

    Among other things pertaining to the upcoming Windows 8.1 update, in this video Joe Belfiore (Corporate VP of Microsoft Windows Division) talks about Cortana, Microsoft’s new personal digital assistant. At about 5:12, Belfiore mentions a feature called ‘people reminders’ where he instructs Cortana as follows: Next time I speak with my sister, remind me to ask her about her new dog. Now, on the one hand I’d lie if I said this isn’t a cool feature; on the other I can’t help but hope that only impossibly busy or really forgetful people will use it… or perhaps people who (to use this very same example) really don’t care much about their sister since they don’t even bother to keep in mind she got a new dog.

    Technological crutches

    I’m not saying that all these applications, services, personal digital assistants and the like — which are designed to assist us in various ways and capacities — are useless or should be avoided. I’m merely pointing out how I find a bit alarming that young people, with supposedly healthy and highly functioning brains, seem to rely on such technological crutches a little too much and probably more frequently than they should. Out of metaphor, you use real crutches after you suffered an injury, not pre-emptively just because you want to prevent one.

    Again, I appreciate the technology and it’s great that it exists because there are people out there who really need the assistance it can provide. But I fear that a lot of other people are using these technological crutches just because they exist, therefore developing a certain ‘mental laziness’ that can’t be good in the long term. One can argue that, since the technology is here to stay, these ‘mentally lazy’ people will just keep taking advantage of such crutches and that’s the way it’s going to be; with humans becoming increasingly more dependent on devices, machines and technology (smart cars, smart homes, wearable devices, etc.) for all kinds of things — some of which, come on, are perfectly manageable and have always been. 

    Yes, we definitely live in interesting times. My hope is that all this technology that should make our lives easier won’t end up making our minds also dumber in the process. 

     


    • 1. I know people who apparently have put all their sense of direction in the hands of sat-nav systems and GPS-based apps, judging by how they’re basically helpless without such devices.

     

    Mavericks and display management — a headache

    Software

    It’s been more than ten years since I used a desktop Mac model as my main machine. After the iMac G3, I spent a year with the clamshell iBook G3/466 special edition as sole work machine. (At the time it was rather powerful for my needs.) Then, when I upgraded to a PowerBook G4, for me began the era of dual-display configurations and ‘extended desktops’ — and since 2004 my main setup has been a Mac laptop connected to a bigger external display. 95% of the action, for me, happens in the external display, while the laptop screen is relegated to a minor role (I typically keep Finder windows from external drives and servers open on the MacBook Pro’s display, and very little more).

    Therefore, my typical dual-display configuration looks like this:

    Display arrangement ann

     

    Now, I’ve never found the previous Spaces-based virtual desktop and display management particularly problematic. There was the occasional nuisance, but nothing terrible. (At least for how I use my Mac.) Things started to get annoying under Lion and Mountain Lion with Mission Control, especially with different Finder windows open in different Spaces: I’m sure you got mad as I did when going back to a specific Finder window accidentally opened on another Space meant visually jumping from Space to Space — Whoosh… to Space N.1! Then whoosh… back to Space N.4! — and so on.

    It was annoying, yes, but predictable. Since upgrading to OS X Mavericks that desktop-jumping back and forth has gone, but the overall display management has been rather erratic and unreliable for me. As you can see in the figure above, now Mavericks puts a menubar on both displays, to (supposedly) facilitate handling different applications, windows and interface elements on different displays. As the Multiple Displays blurb on Apple’s OS X webpage says, There’s no longer a primary or secondary display — now each has its own menu bar, and the Dock is available on whichever screen you’re working on. You can run a full-screen app on one display and have multiple windows on another display, or run a full‑screen app independently on each display.

    Which is great and all, but sometimes things don’t behave as you’d expect. When you’re working in one display, usually you’ll have an active menubar there and the Dock will be placed on that same display. Yet — and I haven’t been able to fully reproduce this behaviour — sometimes you quit a full-screen app and you’ll find the Dock placed on the display you’re not actively using. Or you return to the Finder, quickly open a new Finder window with ⌘-N, only to find that the active menubar is on the other screen, and the window has been created there. Or the Finder’s ‘Copy’ dialog that appears when you’re copying files and folders, starts being displayed on the ‘wrong’ screen.

    And then the other day, after watching a video in full-screen mode, this happened:

    Half half ann

    On my ‘main’ display I was left with the active menubar, but the application switching interface (the bezel with the array of open apps that appears when you press ⌘-Tab) and the Dock had been moved to the ‘secondary’ display. You may say, Fixing that is easy: just click on the inactive menubar on the MacBook Pro’s display, make it active, then go back to the external display, make the menubar active there again, and all the UI elements will return to the external display where they were before. But no. Clicking on the inactive menubar didn’t make it active. Everything remained stuck in the arrangement depicted above until I repeatedly tapped ⌥-⌘-D to hide and show the Dock. After many attempts, the Dock finally appeared on the main screen and everything went back to normal.

    These may be considered minor annoyances, I know. But what’s maddening, in my opinion, is their utter unpredictability. They get in the way of what you’re doing for no apparent reason (you’re not doing anything ‘wrong,’ often you’re just switching from an application to another) and certainly don’t make for a smooth or seamless multiple displays management.