It finally happened.
I was on a Brooklyn street, raising the viewfinder of my M Monochrom to my eye. The black chrome finish faded stealthily into the background so that nothing other than the buttery mechanical handfeel and precision German optics were standing between me and the decisive moment—no Red Dot or Leica inscription to get in the way. I jiggled the sturdily engineered focusing tab of my 35mm Summicron to align focus on my creative vision: trees in front of a row of Brooklyn brownstone buildings, lit by the edgy Brooklyn sun. Yes, I thought, this is what Street Photography is about, empowered by the simplicity and artisanship of Leica, inspiring an aesthetic uniquely my own.
Then my concentration was broken. A pedestrian swerved over to me and began to ask a question. At first I was enraged because the decisive moment was upon me, but it turned out to be the most meaningful question I could have hoped for. "What kind of camera is that?" he said.
I said, "It's, uh, a Leica."
He said, "Sick!! It's digital, right?"
I said, "Yeah."
As he walked on, I stood with my M Monochrom for a moment and I understood: these kinds of moments of connection with the common man (those who don't own Leicas) give me the strength to keep doing what I do. Thanks for reading.
