In the world of every aspiring photographer, hobbyist or otherwise, the talk of good glass often revolves around the type of lenses one should own and then as the excitement escalates, there is always the worry about what lenses to employ for photo shoots and for travel. The war of prime lenses versus zooms is as hotly debated as the plusses and minuses of Apple versus Microsoft, Ford vs Holden and more. I’m an Apple purist so I am about as open minded as I am one-eyed. Still, love does that to you, doesn’t it?

I’m heading off to St Petersburg and Moscow in a week’s time and my greatest dilemma is not what to wear, what to buy or what to do while I’m there. Having been based there before, I am aware my couture will hardly measure up to the well-heeled Moscovites, and retail therapy to me is as much an exercise in wellness as shoving a fork up one’s nose. нет, Я не заинтересован в продаже своих глаз. As the Russians say, I am not interested in selling my eyes.

My concerns are far more practical than those. I’m in a conundrum about the lenses I’m going to take with me, the accessories I should pack and which camera bag to tote. Is my Sigma 24-105 going to make a good walkabout lens and will it deliver the quality I would otherwise get if I were to work with my favourite primes – 35mm, my nifty 50 and my 85mm telephoto? The turmoil that has set me back weeks and left a table strewn with lenses and camera totes is far from resolved.

I met a fellow photography enthusiast at a store yesterday. As we commiserated, she admits to being profoundly riddled with guilt about her migration to a full digital SLR. She is now compelled to keep her old film SLR on a shelf so it would at least be esteemed with a place of honour as it watches her DSLRs slip into her camera bag and walk out the door for a look at the world. If I were to allow myself a moment in her world of  personification, I should imagine her old SLR would be traumatised by the constant rejection each time it is overlooked for a DSLR. Surely, it must feel as a prisoner would the proverbial rejection by a parole board.

Tonight, tonight, I say – indeed, tonight, I have said many a time this last month – I shall make a decision. I shall steel my resolve, pack up the chosen ones and cauterise the wounds of the rejected. My bag shall be packed and I shall go to bed believing it will stay unchanged until I get on that plane next week!