John Neil

This is not my best image. It is not my most beautiful image. It is not even a particularly interesting image. Though, I suppose all of that is relative in a sense.

However, what it represents is a fundamental shift in my understanding of photography. It is the first image in what was to become, ‘my style.’ Not that this is particularly important. In fact, I would encourage anyone interested in photography not to worry too much about style. It will happen all on its own.

But, up until this rainy May morning on the California coast, I had felt I was searching for something in my photography. I wasn’t sure what it was, how to define it, or even how to ask myself questions about it. I knew I wanted to make a certain kind of image, but I really couldn’t define it much more than that. For some reason, though, the task was compelling enough for me to keep at it… for years. When this image was taken, I was about three years into a more focused effort to improve my photographic skills. And by focus, I guess I really mean just time and effort. I really had no idea what I was doing or why.

Looking back now, I can see that this was less about improving my photography and more about my need for an outlet, for creativity, for an escape from my difficulties at work and with relationships. It was about being outside an office, about taking the world in.

And in many ways, that hasn’t really changed. In fact, as I’m saying this, I am now realizing how little the actual photographs mattered.

In truth, I think learning photography was the anecdote I needed for the general turbulence in my life. It was a way for me to cope with the parts of my life and myself that weren’t working.

As the years have gone on, the skill-building aspect has become less important. I’m happy with my photos. Sure, they are always improving, and I want to continue that journey. However, it’s barely about that now.

Every week I spend dozens of hours behind a computer screen. Photography has largely become a way for me to re-engage with the physical world outside without having to make an plans or negociate schedules with any other people. It’s just me and my camera, wandering around and looking at things.

It has become a meditative practice.

I’m reminded of an evening I spent with my camera on the side of a mountain in Kings Canyon National Park. A quiet drive up a mostly abandoned road with only maybe an hour of daylight left. Every tree, every fern, every leaf was taking on that incredible yellow gold from the low angle of the sun.

The place was absolutely still, not even the suggestion of a breeze. I passed a Mule deer on the way up. I stopped my truck right in front of it, and we just sat there and looked at each other for a while; I have no idea how long. Eventually, I parked my vehicle. For an hour, I wandered around the hillside, taking photos of bark, leaves, moss, pine trees, and a lake. And none of them were any good. Not a single one.

But it didn’t matter at all. The results were completely irrelevant. I was in a different world, a different place.

And so, while the first photo in this post represents the beginning of what characterizes my photography now, its true value is a journey that has not been about photography at all.

So, in a way, I’m not sure you need to care about how good your photographs are. I think the process of making them is enough.

Something insidious has been happening over the last few decades. Not in secret, so much, but slow enough to go unnoticed: The Internet has turned into a steaming pile of garbage.

Enshittification is rampant on every platform, degrading the experience of almost every web-app, site, and service.

Twitter has turned into X, and in my view, a platform that was somewhat hostile and crawling with bad behavior is now an utterly toxic (and useless) pile of horse turds.

Additionally, when I signed up for Instagram 15 years ago, it was a place to share photos with real people. It was creative and social. And, dare I say, fun. Now, it is a digital succubus that endeavors not to help me socialize and see the creativity of others, but to capture as much of my attention as humanly possible (so it can serve me ads—while simultaneously rotting my brain and, quite literally, making me dumber). Or stupider. Or more dumb. However you say it. See? It worked.

For the most part, I left social media quite a few years ago. The accounts are still there, but I try to avoid them at all costs.

I wish that was the worst of it. I wish I could say that just leaving social media was sufficient to avoid being constantly harassed or annoyed on the Internet. But, doing almost anything online now goes something like this:

I visit a site because I need to accomplish something. I am halted first by an utterly confusing message about my cookies and my privacy. And, I am left reading through legalese that I don’t understand, to make a selection I don’t care about, regarding a use of data that is utterly opaque to me. This is all presented in a completely non-standard way, and I’m mad about it because this doesn’t seem worth my time to actually parse. So, I just click one of the options… because I was trying to do something.

Then I finally get around to doing the thing I came there to do, making 30 seconds of progress before I am once again blocked. A notification appears to tell me that I need an account. I sign up for the account.

Wait, did I already do this? Did I use my email before? Facebook or Google authentication? Now I have to sign into my password manager to check. I waste 3 minutes figuring that out.

I try to log in.

The account requires 2-factor authentication. Ugh, ok. I deal with that.

I log in. Again.

Pop-up “Sign up for our newsletter?”

F**k this.

And I leave.

I don’t even have to get into AI slop and the destructive move from followers to algorithms. I think you get the point.

I Probably Sound Like an Old Man

I’m in my 40s. So, if you are younger than me, you might not know that it wasn’t always like this. There was a time when the Internet was not completely commoditized, industrialized, and capitalized.

It was a place where actual people, individuals, went to share things. It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t completely safe. And it was far from ideal. But it was real, it was authentic, and it was fun.

Actually, it still is. You just have to work at it a little more now.

The “World Wide Web” Was Awesome

Last week, in a moment of extreme irony, YouTube’s algorithm served me this video about the Indie Web. I knew within a minute or two that I had found something special, something I wanted to be a part of. Even a small part.

The Internet used to be more commonly referred to as the “World Wide Web”. It was, at its basic level, an interconnected set of digital locations. What made it usable wasn’t a venture-funded app or a platform where you could become a “partner”. The “web” or connection part came from links.

If you liked something or something was relevant or interesting, you linked to it. And other people linked to things. The whole digital world was a web—of links.

No one was recommending anything to you. No singular powerful entity was steering you toward something or away from something. You were an explorer. You found one door into the web through your favorite blog, page, or forum, and you explored from there. Clicking links.

You might have ended up somewhere completely irrelevant. You might have gotten bored because none of them were interesting. But most of the time, you found something cool, maybe by someone compelling in a corner of the world that you would never have otherwise seen.

It was decentralized. It was creative. And a lot of it was made by people. Not companies and robots. And, it was pretty cool.

And, it’s not gone.

The Indie Web

For the last week, I have been spending my evenings “browsing the Internet”. Not scrolling through TikTok (actually, I have never done that). Not deleting hostile YouTube comments or feeling bad about my life because I’m not married to a beautiful Instagram model.

I am surfing the web. Reading about how an engineer from Iceland made a image to ASCII art rendering program. I’m looking at a unique web design from a college student in Japan—somewhere. I’m learning what it’s like to lose power during a cold winter in Lithuania. I’m going through a series of posts from someone who is dealing with chronic illness. I have no idea what I am going to find or read next.

It’s relaxing. It’s inspiring. It’s interesting. It’s creative. And, I love it.

You can surf the Indie Web too! I will help you get started, right now.

First, go get a cup of tea or a glass of wine or some… lemon-water or whatever.

Neocities - Start here. Kinda the hub of this revival movement. Mostly HTML pages.

Here are a few random web-rings I found with lots of links. I haven’t been to most of them, but it’s a good place to start.

Melon Land Surf Club

Hotline Webring

There are thousdans of lists like this. I just happen to stumble upon these. Explore, and I’m sure you will find more.

Doing My Part

Inspired by these experiences, I am changing this blog to be more unique. To be my own voice again, instead of just articles that will get search traffic. I am slowly re-designing it to be fun and less sterile. And, I will, over time, add more and more links to things and people that I think are interesting. I have never had analytics and pop-ups on this site because I hate that crap, so no need to fix that. But I can do more. So, I will.

Finally, I would like to encourage you to opt out of the enshittified Internet. If the platform sucks, the people are annoying, and the experience makes you feel less human, just leave. It’s the strongest voice you have. Take your attention elsewhere. There are hundreds of thousands of wonderful tiny places for you to enjoy on the web.

Go find them.

A first impressions review.

In 2022, the Fujifilm X100V exploded on social media and became almost impossible to buy. This timing was extraordinarily unfortunate for me, as I was about to buy one at that time. I am largely absent from social media, so the TikTok buzz was not a motivator for me (which I am proud of). But I watched Fujifilm’s press event when they released the camera, and it was on my list after I saved some money. Sadly, when the funds became available, the camera was not.

Fast forward four years, and I found myself in Tokyo, Japan during the summer of 2025. A quick Reddit search revealed a shop that MIGHT have some in stock just a one-hour train ride from my hotel. On the off chance I might actually be able to buy one at retail pricing… off I went. I didn’t call first because my Japanese is painful and my loathing of phone calls even more so.

Fujiya Camera in Nakano was my destination, and upon my arrival—don’t you know—they had not only multiple used X100V cameras, but also the new X100VI cameras below retail pricing.

I almost threw my credit card at the nice Japanese gentleman.

But $1,450 USD is no small sum. Was it worth it?

Short version: Good camera. But at this price, it is impractical for anyone who isn’t a professional or avid enthusiast.

All images except for this first one in Japan were taken with the x100vi.

Traveling With The X100VI

This was partially a purchase for a trip to Italy I was going on with my girlfriend a few months later. I hemmed and hawed over what camera and lens to bring to the land of wine and cappuccino. It wasn’t a photo trip, so I didn’t want to burden myself with lots of gear. The XT4 is just a little heavy for all-day carry; I was a little bored with it at that moment anyway. So, the X100 was the perfect selection, and if you’re not doing a photography-focused trip, it truly is a fantastic travel companion.

Slinging the X100VI over your shoulder for a day of sight-seeing is a breeze. Most of the time, I didn’t even notice I had it with me as it floated on the strap at my back or hip. And the amount of photographic quality and technology packed into a camera that small and inconspicuous is truly a tremendous way to travel. I have taken more than one camera to more than one corner of the world, and I have to say this was my favorite way to capture a city. It is perfect in an urban environment. However, it is not without its limitations. I will get to that.

Classic Fujifilm + Build Quality

Honestly, there is not much to comment on regarding the physical camera itself. All classic Fuji X. The dials feel nice. The physical controls are a delight. The lens is nothing I would write home about, but it’s no slouch—just a good performer. The colors look like all the other Fuji colors. Everything is as you would expect, except for the very flimsy-feeling doors, covers, and seals.

This is a disturbing trend I have noticed with their cameras over the last three or so years, and one that deeply concerns me. In truth, the camera feels of decent quality in the hands. But I have had a repair issue with my XH2 and am seeing more and more people on YouTube and forums complaining of a significant drop in quality. For what this camera costs, there is really no good excuse, in my opinion. However, the parts that you actually interact with frequently are metal, feel solid, and are confidence-inspiring. I even bashed the thing against my girlfriend’s camera when I picked her up to put her on a wall. However, there was no damage. So… perhaps it is quite sturdy and my concerns are unwarranted.

It Really Is a Special Camera - Optical Viewfinder - ND filter

And now to the best two parts of the X100 cameras: the optical viewfinder and the built-in ND filter.

Why this is, to my knowledge, the ONLY mass-produced camera with a dual optical/evf viewfinder is beyond my comprehension. It’s just the best way to shoot. I would put this feature in every camera I own if I could. I can’t tell you how many reviewers passed over this aspect in their reviews, noting that it was interesting but not worth using. What on Earth?

First, the EVF kinda sucks. Feels very low-res compared to my XT4 and XH2. It works, but not something I would seek out.

The optical viewfinder puts you back in the moment and place you are. The refresh rate is infinite, because it’s just reality. The view is wider than your capture, so you can see what is outside your frame. It’s crisp. It’s clear. It has just enough information displayed, but not too much.

And, while there were certainly times that I switched to the EVF just to be sure I was getting the right exposure, I would say 60% of my shooting was with the optical viewfinder. It took me right back to my happy DSLR days. When moving quickly to capture important shots, it might not be the best, but for a slow photo walk that benefits from immersion, the optical viewfinder is a dream.

And the second-best part of the camera? The built-in neutral density filter.

I hate filters. And I hate tripods. I just hate hassles, and that’s exactly what filters and tripods create. But with one flip of a switch, I can apply the ND filter and shoot wide open in daylight without sending my shutter speed to the moon. This has tremendous advantages for video, but I used it for photos on occasion too. It’s the kind of thing you probably already know you will appreciate if you indeed… will appreciate it. Otherwise, you can safely ignore this feature.

Other Notable Features

I won’t dwell on the sensor or megapixels for long because, honestly, it’s the absolute least important part of any modern camera. The 40MP is great—not mind-blowing, but good. It resolves a lot of detail in good light. Handy for cropping, but not that much more detailed than the 24MP sensor. The IBIS is a great feature and nice to have in any camera. I appreciate it for video and also for low-light shooting. The images overall look fantastic, and the reason I haven’t spent much time talking about it is that they look exactly like any other Fuji camera with this sensor and processor combo. It’s thoroughly modern with great colors and great rendition. If you like Fuji files, you will like these.

Downsides

It’s not a perfect camera. I mentioned already that the doors covering the battery and audio jacks feel like they belong on a toy.

It comes with a fixed 23mm lens which, while very practical, is too wide for my taste.

And the menus are just, well, Fujifilm menus. So, not amazing. I am used to it now, having owned the cameras for six years. But I think Nikon and Canon shine in this department. Fujifilm really needs to just start over from a UI perspective. I get that it’s a challenge given the inputs and volume of information that has to be displayed. But, yeah, not great.

Also, changing from photo to video mode requires you to go into the drive menu and then scroll through the menu to change it. This is an absurd workflow on any camera in this day and age. If you insist on setting it up that way, please at least allow me to assign a toggle for photo/video to a custom button somewhere. You made a tiny travel camera with an ND filter and 6K, 10-bit recording and then made it a pain to switch to video. I could understand this decision as a first attempt. But the X-E3 was like this too, from years ago. It’s not a good UX choice.

And lastly, the price.

$1,500 is not an outrageous price to ask for what you are getting. It is a one-of-a-kind camera. It is also, however, a lot of money… especailly for a camera that is essentially an enthusiast camera. That amount of money will buy you not only a lot of cameras from other brands like Lumix or Sony, but $1500 will also buy great new and used cameras from Fujifilm that allow for lens changing, various controls, and designs that might suit you better, etc.

Conclusion

The Fujifilm X100VI, while imperfect, is one of my favorite cameras of all time. I hope it serves me for many years to come, and I am sure it will be a faithful coffee shop and casual travel companion for hundreds of trips and outings in the future.

The real question, if you don’t own one, is whether or not the price is justified. If $1500 is a lot of money to you (it is to me) and you are a casual photographer, I would pass.

If you can afford it and photography is an obsession, go for it.