Selling my heart out

In 2004, I bought the camera I wanted: a Nikon FM3a. I bought it after selling my Nikon N60, Pentax K1000, Canon AE-1, a Nikon kit zoom lens, and some other stuff I can’t even remember. I did all of this selling and buying on my feet in Kathmandu, Nepal, at the end of my Peace Corps service.

Five years later, again I’m selling so I can buy, selling my Nikon FM3a and the select lenses I bought to compliment my FM3a. So what camera could force me to part with my beloved? The Leica M9. And it’s not just a matter of selling this camera and several lenses to cover the purchase. I’m cleaning house, frankly, and selling whatever camera gear I have that I don’t use at least weekly.

Which, it turns out, is pretty much most of my gear.

If you’re interested in picking up the best film Nikon made, period, in my opinion, and the excellent and rare Nikkor 45mm 1:2.8P lens, you can check out my eBay auctions.

You can be confident that after I get my first ‘real’ Leica that I will write all about it.

The niece ala T-Max

Saanvi at our place, loving the camera

Jabbering on Windows Mobile

When it comes to Web sites for smart phone software, be it Blackberry or Windows Mobile, it all seems rather sploggy to me. I can’t seem to find a Jabber client for Windows Mobile that doesn’t strike me as malware. One I downloaded had Google Adsense integrated—excluded, of course, from the screens on its homepage.

Blackberry has tried to follow the model of the Apple App Store, and Verizon provides a dodgy link to Handango (which is practically a splog, really). Granted, there is so much software out there for these two platforms it’s impressive. But there is absolutely not community commenting on it and reviewing it. I guess it’s sort of a trade-off between people doing their own thing and people being told what to do.

Anyhow. Someone please point me in the direction of a Jabber client for Windows Mobile. That will not brick my HTC Touch Diamond.

On selling something I sort of own

In 2005, I bought and registered a domain, plaintxt.org, so I could relocated my Peace Corps blog and blog about other things, too. I had a great vision to develop the content I had written during that time in to a great Peace Corps blog.

Things didn’t quite work out like that.

Instead, in the process of using some new (to me) software, WordPress, and getting my Peace Corps blog just like I wanted it, I started developing my own theme. Which lead to the creation and distribution of my first WordPress theme, veryplaintxt, a play on the name of the domain I was using then.

The response from releasing this theme was massive. Suddenly I went from getting some email every day to getting an email every minute. Questions, suggestions, insults, praise—suddenly I found myself involved in a vibrant, enthusiastic community. The WordPress community.

From veryplaintxt, I designed, developed, and released more themes. Development continued and, much like WordPress, it moved at a brisk pace. There was a time—however brief—where I was alongside few others at the forefront of theme development for WordPress.

From theme competitions to forum debates, I involved myself. I learned a great deal of PHP, CSS, HTML, and JavaScript, and found this sheer amount of learning I was doing quite exhilarating. I experienced a similar feeling when I was in the Peace Corps and I read, successfully, my first bit of Nepali. The feeling of power and accomplishment was intoxicating.

Then I got started on my great contribution, the Sandbox theme. The collaboration between me and Automattic handyman Andy Skelton helped produce, at the time, an entirely new and innovative WordPress theme.

The Sandbox theme has since been ported to Movable Type and Drupal, cited in WordPress for Dummies and Microformats: Empowering Your Markup for Web 2.0, and the proud father to many incredible WordPress themes. This was my masterpiece, the best I could offer the community.

Then, after years of not having a successful WordPress theme competition, the Sandbox Designs Competition. I decided that I would organize, operate, and execute a theme competition by myself. The reason all the other theme competitions had failed was because the organizers, frankly, were dodgy and had other motives than supporting and promoting WordPress theme development.

Supporters were secured, funds were obtained, rules and regulations were set in place, and a forum (sort of) was opened. The competition ended with some excellent winners, several of whom have since turned out to continue their contributions. I’m looking at you, Ian and Will.

And since that time, I have withdrawn from the WordPress community. Active development of my themes and plugins has stopped simply because I am unable to continue the necessary development. In a way, they have a life of their own.

My WordPress themes and plugins were inspired by other themes and plugins, many of theme long abandoned and forgotten. Yet they remained and influenced me. In this way, I know my contributions will continue. Now, though, I am letting what I created, plaintxt.org, live on without me—for better or worse.

Yes, I am offering the sale of plaintxt.org/sndbx.org. I am not desperate or broke. This is not about money. It’s about letting these projects, brands, whatever, live on without me. Because I just don’t have the time or interest to maintain what I started.

Which brings up an important point: Do I actually own these sites? I mean, the content is licensed by the GNU GPL, so it’s free. The projects are hosted on Google Code and WordPress Extend. The themes and plugins can’t actually disappear. But given that so much of the good that has come from them has come at the hands of volunteers.

So I’m a bit torn up about it—yet I look at it realistically. The only other conclusion would be that the content and domain would age into obscurity. Sooner or later, it would just be swallowed up by the blackness of the Intertubes. Haven’t you ever visited a site only to be greeted by 404s? Sooner or later, we all go the way of the dodo.

So in conclusion, here’s to tomorrow.

On camera gear and acquisitions

This evening, I lost a Voigtlander 28/35 minifinder off my Lumix LX3 hot shoe at the Woodside/61st St subway station. On the 7 train. Very disappointing.