I am a nerd. Every morning, I ritualistically read tech-blogs like Gizmodo, Silicon Alley Insider and All Things D. A few months ago I started hearing chatter about an imaging processing and sharing program called Instagram for the iPhone. For a year and a half, I used Twitter and photo editing software like Camera Bag to share my photographs with people. I would take a photo of something with my iPhone, edit the image with a filter and then post it on Twitter. Instagram streamlined this process, combining editing and uploading software into one program. Intrigued, I downloaded Instagram and started using the filters on my photos.
After messing around with the dozen or so filters, I like the results from Nashville. They look the most like Kodachrome. Here are some of my favorites photos from the last month.
My window and a deer head.
A view of Mosier, Oregon from across the Columbia River.
This VW Beetle wasn't faring that well in Manhattan, let alone Jackson Hole.
The sun's reflection bouncing back along 59th street at sunrise.

Instagram combines a lot of the functionality of Twitter and Facebook's newsfeed, allowing users to follow others, comment on their photographs and "like" photographs. In addition, Instagram uploads across platforms, adding your photo to Twitter, Facebook, Tumblr, Foursquare and Flikr with one tap of the screen.

Early morning shadows in Central Park.
Higgins Beach, Scarborough, Maine.
Unfortunately, Instagram limits photo sizes to a square 612 pixels as opposed to the potential 2592 of the iPhone 4. This smaller size limits its use outside of an iPhone screen.

Joe Coffee on the Upper West Side.
I am certainly not the first to the party. Instagram already has an estimated 2 million users. A lot of you are probably using it, but if you have an iPhone and aren't using it, download it now. It's free. Look for my photos on Instagram, @FosterHuntington or on Twitter.
Here are some more links,

Out of Reception: My Last Month of College

I sat in my kindergarten classroom distracted by the other ruffians, the possibilities of the cloudless sky outside, and my teacher's shoulder pads. Idly playing with my hands, I picked at a patch of road rash from a bike accident a week earlier. Quietly ticking over Mrs. Basham's shoulder, the big hand crept towards 9 and the promise of wall ball and the creaking swing sets. The moment the bell rang, I knocked over my chair as I scrambled to the door.

Seventeen years and 3,300 miles away from the linoleum floors of my cold war era elementary school, I pass time in the final classes of my conventional education, checking my watch with the same eagerness as an ADD five-year old. Excited by the prospect of new experiences and a faster pace of life, I kick back in my chair. Instead of staring into the depths of my small hands, I flick and tap on the screen of my iPhone taking pictures of my last month of college.

Colby's woodshop in Sidney, Maine.

My last field trip, Belgrade, Maine.

Spending an afternoon in Sheep's Meadow, Central Park.

Subway maintenance, New York.

Riding my De Bernardi, Waterville Maine.

Master's weekend, Middlebury, Vermont.

Apartment searching, West Village.

Sitting by the Johnson Pond, Colby College.

Enjoying New England's oysters.

A Frito Bandito in Vermont.

Hopefully this time, I won't knock over the chair.

All of these photos were taken with my iPhone 3Gs and filtered with Colorcross from Camerbag.


Out of Reception: A Dry Winter

Defined by Wikipedia as "a transformation from the solid to gas phase with no intermediate liquid stage," my only knowledge of sublimation before moving to Maine was 10th grade chemistry. Applied to pubescent science labs this translates into tedious experiments on dry ice turning into C02. In the bitter Maine winters, snow and ice skip a step and evaporate, creating low-tide like formations on snowbanks and fields. In January and February, the snow slowly receded exposing dead grass, frozen dirt and the remnants of a warmer time. Taking full advantage of the lack of snow this winter, I have traveled far and wide, exploring the state and taking photos with my iPhone along the way. Here are some of my favorites from the last six weeks.

Smelt Shanties near Wiscasset, Maine.

A Canoe at low tide at Popham Beach, Maine.
A frozen river near Farmington, Maine.

Soft sand at Seaswell Beach, Maine.

A space capsule on Damariscotta Lake, Maine.

Looking out at some islands at Pemaquid Point, Maine.

A log skidder near Whitefield, Maine.

An old fuel pump near South China, Maine.

A look out over Lake Champlain from Charlotte, Vermont.

The Johnson living room in Charlotte, Vermont.

Someday soon, the warm, wet weather from the Atlantic will meet cold air from the arctic and blanket the dead and frozen grass in a few inches of snow. When the snow returns, I will be there, taking photos with my iPhone and using the Camerabag Application.


The Most Interesting Three Weeks of My Life

One of my favorite high school teachers would always quote Socrates, "The unexamined life is not worth living." At the time I thought little of this pedantic morsel and often responded with a quote from a most excellent movie, "you mean So-crates?" Despite my D in sophomore English, most likely a function of smart ass comments and failed vocabulary tests, the lesson of introspection and evaluation resonates more and more as I grow up.

On the morning of Sunday, December 13th, I packed up four shirts, two pairs of jeans, a handful of underwear and socks into a backpack and headed towards the wild blue yonder. I split the next three weeks between Boston, New York and the Portland, Oregon area, my toothbrush and iPhone with me at all times. For three weeks, I went to bed early, I went on walks by myself, I saw old friends, I roughhoused with my brother, I played with my dog, I ate my mom's food and more than anything, I thought.

Our campfire at sunset.

Emma in Central Park.

Sunrise in the Columbia River Gorge from a window in my mom's house.

Acrylic Paint in Soho.

Alice and Bob's Maine Cooncat in the West Village. In the summer he has a lion cut.

Tim overlooking the Columbia River Gorge on a foggy day.

Liberated by my freedom of mobility and lack of obligations, I traveled light, snapping photos with my iPhone as I went. Each photo connects an image to a thought like news clippings on a refrigerator. I know it's not what my sophomore English teacher envisioned some six years ago, but thank you "So-crates."

All of these photos were taken on my iPhone 3GS and the Colorcross Camerabag Filter.