全て良し😊 #shinjuku #leica #voigtlander #noktonclassic40mm
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸

pixel skylines
The Bowery Presents
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year

No title available
NASA
Sweet Seals For You, Always
trying on a metaphor
Show & Tell
Sade Olutola
Today's Document
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

Jar Jar Binks Fan Club
Cosmic Funnies
we're not kids anymore.
Not today Justin
Claire Keane
KIROKAZE

blake kathryn

Andulka

seen from Syria
seen from Spain
seen from Bangladesh

seen from Bangladesh
seen from India

seen from China
seen from Türkiye

seen from Bangladesh

seen from India
seen from Argentina
seen from Malaysia

seen from United Arab Emirates
seen from Netherlands

seen from Argentina
seen from Argentina
seen from Argentina
seen from Argentina
seen from Israel
seen from United States
seen from United States
@dct851sp3
全て良し😊 #shinjuku #leica #voigtlander #noktonclassic40mm
Summer is back in Shinjuku, as always. #shinjuku #leica #voigtlander
マジックアワーは台所にもあった🤭
#leica #voigtlander
** The Insurmountable Voigtländer Barrier**
After owning two 50mm Summilux lenses, I finally arrived at a conclusion and let them go.
The precision and melting bokeh of the ASPH lense felt almost like an AI-generated imitation, and while the classic 2nd generation reissue offered the aesthetic I was after, the barrel distortion soured the experience for me.
Both lenses offer undeniable, world-class performance. However, I found myself taking photos that only served to highlight their distinct traits. I realized I wasn’t mastering these tools, so I ultimately let them go.
I sighed, wondering if I should just return to my trusty Color-Skopar 35mm f/2.5—the lens I bought with my late Leica M-E—as I peered into a lens showcase. That’s when I saw it: the Nokton Classic 40mm f/1.4. It was the first time I’d seen one in person. It looked like a slightly larger Color-Skopar, and the price tag seemed like a typo. I had scoured the Voigtländer website for years, yet I had always assumed "Nokton" meant "big and heavy," and the peculiar lens length as 40mm had kept me from ever looking into it.
A kind staff member allowed me to try it on their M11 and after a few shots inside and outside the store, my intuition turned into conviction. "It has the same color palette as the reissued Summilux, but without the barrel distortion." I have no idea where the 14-fold price difference actually lies. To top it off, when fitted with the dedicated LH-6 metal hood, it sits perfectly flush with the base of the Leica body, meaning no wobble when set on a desk. The only drawback is that it’s only available in black, but otherwise, it is flawless.
In the end, I bought it, and my long-time companion, the Color-Skopar, has been relegated to reserve status for its golden years.
#leica #cosina #voigtlander #noktonclassic
A twilight evening that makes you appreciate the value of peace. @Shinjuku
Back in the mid-17th century, the Manganji Ferry was the primary way for travelers on the Koshu Kaido to cross the Tama River. It originally connected the Ishida districts of Kunitachi and Hino (Manganji). The highway itself has a long history; it was first laid out by the Tokugawa Shogunate along the river cliffs, but the Tama River was prone to flooding. By 1684, the route was moved to its modern-day location for safety, and the ferry crossing was moved downstream toward the site of the current Hino Bridge.
Mitsumine Shrine, one of the "Three Shrines of Chichibu," is situated at an elevation of 1,102 meters. It is renowned for its connection to the legend of Yamato Takeru and became a major center for kochu (religious pilgrimage groups) during the Edo period, centered around the worship of Ooguchi Magami (the wolf deity).
The name "Mitsumine" (meaning "Three Peaks") originates from the three majestic mountains to the south—Mount Kumotori, Mount Shiraiwa, and Mount Myoho—which form a beautiful continuous ridge. The terrain is composed of hard rock, such as chert and limestone from the Chichibu Belt, creating steep summits covered in lush, diverse mixed forests.
The Okumiya (inner shrine) located on Mount Myoho is the sacred site where, according to the Nihon Shoki (Chronicles of Japan), Yamato Takeru—the son of Emperor Keiko—enshrined the two deities Izanagi and Izanami. In the 8th century, Kobo Daishi (the founder of Shingon Buddhism) carved a statue of Kannon at the site where the main hall now stands, which served as a center for shugendo (ascetic mountain worship). This led to a long history of Shinbutsu-shugo (the syncretism of Shinto and Buddhism). Following the government-ordered separation of Shinto and Buddhism in the Meiji period, the site was officially renamed Mitsumine Shrine, as it is known today.
The Haiden (offering hall) is adorned with vibrant carvings of lucky charms based on Chinese folklore, giving it a truly magnificent and opulent appearance.
My second New Year’s visit of 2026 was to Takaosan Yakuoin Yuki-ji Temple.
Established in 744 (the 16th year of the Tenpyo era) by the high priest Gyoki Bosatsu under the imperial decree of Emperor Shomu, it was founded as a temple to pray for the guardianship of eastern Japan. The name "Yakuoin" originates from its original dedication to Yakushi Nyorai, the Buddha of Medicine.
While the mountain trails are bustling with people as far as Mt. Kagenobu on the neighboring ridge, the surroundings grow quiet as you approach Jimba. Stepping off the ridge path, the evening sun filters through at an angle, creating striking patterns throughout the forest with layers of golden light.
Shinagawa Pier (Sites of the Shinagawa Odaiba Forts, Nos. 1 and 5)
The arrival of Commodore Perry's fleet from 🇺🇸 in June 1853 profoundly shocked the Edo Shogunate, which had maintained its policy of "sakoku" (national isolation) since its founding, leading to the urgent consideration of strengthening the maritime defenses of Edo Bay.
The construction of Odaiba forts to guard the inner harbor of Edo was soon decided upon. Drawing reference from Western treatises on fortification and gunnery, the plan mandated the construction of eleven Odaiba forts across the sea area extending from Minami-Shinagawa Ryōshi-machi (Shinagawa Suzaki) to Fukagawa Suzaki.
Construction commenced at the same year and proceeded around the clock.
Piles (pine and cedar) and stones for construction materials were transported by sea from various locations throughout the Kantō region. Earth and sand were carried from the nearby leveled hills of Shinagawa, with the number of transport boats reaching 2,000 per day on occasion. During the construction of the First, Second, and Third Forts, the laborers involved in earth collection alone numbered up to 5,000 people, and the total construction cost became an enormous sum, estimated at about one million ryō.
The first three forts were completed in July the following year. Another two, along with the land-connected Goten-yama-shita Fort (which was added during the process), were finished in December. Construction on the Fourth and Seventh Forts was started but abandoned halfway through, and the Eighth Fort and all subsequent planned forts were never begun.
Elliott Erwitt
Elliott Erwitt's photographs are always dramatic, whether he features people, dogs, or landscapes. Everyone has seen one of his most amazing photos of a small dog wearing a hat, but this one, decked out in roses, is just as captivating😊
Happy 100th birthday.
@AoyamaSpiral
#Leica100
The Curse of Leica
Given that the brand's symbolic composition is the spiral staircase and bicycle captured by Cartier-Bresson, I'm sure everyone, including myself, would applaud their sense of choosing Aoyama Spiral as the venue for its commemorative event😙. However, even if assigning a celebrity photographer for each event is in line with headquarters rules, I find the selection this time disappointing... It's precisely because he's a smart artist that he's able to manipulate his character to meet expectations, and his skillfulness only makes me feel more helpless😆.
Happy 100th birthday.
@AoyamaSpiral
#Leica100
100 Jahre Leica, zeugin eines Jahrhunderts
Happy 100th birthday.
@AoyamaSpiral
#Leica100
Ur LEICA
Hier entschied 1924 Ernest Leitz II, die von Oskar Barnack enfund ene Leica zu fertigen.
「ここに決断を下す。リスクは覚悟の上だ。」
Happy 100th birthday.
@AoyamaSpiral
#Leica100
“Early mornings are best in winter”
In January, I came across a cluster of mushrooms on the mountain path leading to Mt. Ichimichiyama. Although the mushrooms were close to dying in winter, I was fascinated by the splendor of their black, lustrous robes, and when I pressed the shutter, the moss covering the rotting stump was captured in minute detail, flaunting its green color.
Submitted to the "BicCamera PhotoWorld 2025 Photo Contest"
「冬は夙めてこよなし」
一月、市道山に向かう山道で見かけたキノコの群生。冬枯れ間近ながら、黒々と艶やかな袈裟の見事さに魅入りシャッターを切ると、朽ちた切り株を覆う苔がその緑を誇示する様までもが緻密に捉えられていた。
「BicCamera Photo World 2025 フォトコンテスト」 応募作
https://www.biccamera.com/bc/c/camera/photoworld2025/index.jsp
L'immagine dell'empresente.
Il Sud Italia nella fotografia di Fosco Maraini. 1946-1956
Enpresentation
Fosco Maraini photo exhibition, Images in the Present Illumination, southern Italy 1946-1956
@ Italian Cultural Institute
In Japan, Fosco Maraini is known as a bridge between Italy and Japan, and ultimately between the West and Japan. A scholar, artist, writer, and above all a tireless and curious traveller, his interests did not end with Japan, and he traveled and studied many places, from Tibet to Southeast Asia, the Middle East, the United States, and his own homeland, Italy, leaving behind a number of photographs of people and culture. To express it in his own way, using Maraini's amazing neologism.
Photographs that capture a moment that will never be repeated, a moment when the eyes sense the movement of the heart and soul, "seized in the present illumination".
In this exhibition, you will see the non-Japanese side of Maraini, his work in the early 1950s, immortalizing the diverse faces of Southern Italy through his lens with the Leica camera.
This is the "Mouth of Tama River." Beyond the thick reeds that cover the river you can see the Tama River flowing leisurely. On the other side of the river is Haneda Airport (HND, Tokyo International Airport).
At low tide, the tidal flats appear, and not only crabs, mudskippers, and waterfowl but also children roam energetically. It is truly a treasure trove of nature in the city.
The "Mouth of the Tama River" creates a unique landscape where natural scenery and man-made structures blend in harmony. In the towns along the river, you can still get a glimpse of the lifestyles of the Showa era.
As for fishermen, here is a good place for fishing sea bass. A lot of lure anglers gathers in the late autumn.
Intense morning sun shines into the dark mountains at dawn, the only images that remain in my mind are differences in contrast of tone.
#Evo