There’s a strange little lie that clings to photography like static: that better photos come only with better money. Magazines repeat it, YouTubers spin it into endless reviews, camera companies sell it with polished language about “innovation” and “pro.” And quietly, almost without noticing, photographers begin to believe it. They wait to start until they’ve saved for the new release. They feel embarrassed about their modest kit. They scroll through spec sheets like lottery tickets, convinced the next model will unlock their vision.

The Weight of Canon’s R-Series: From Featherlight APS-C to Full-Frame Heavyweights Weight is one of those specs that photographers often glance over—until they’re halfway through a long day of shooting and their neck strap is digging in. Canon’s R-series is fascinating because it runs the spectrum, from ultra-light beginner models to professional full-frame bodies with real heft. Looking at just the body-only weights, the differences paint a clear picture of who each camera was designed for.

There’s a temptation in photography to always “fix things.” Straighten horizons, remove noise, clean up blemishes, correct distortion. Software makes it almost effortless, as if we’re expected to present reality in its most polished, technically flawless form. But when I stand in a place like Prague’s Old Town Square and raise a wide-angle lens toward the Astronomical Clock, I don’t necessarily want perfection. I want a photograph that feels like the experience, and experience isn’t tidy.

It’s almost funny to think about—NextVision, a company whose miniature stabilized cameras are built for drones patrolling borders, scanning battlefields, or checking high-voltage lines, being somehow relevant to the everyday photographer. Their world is defense contracts, industrial inspections, firefighting operations. The price tags, the specs, even the weight of responsibility that comes with their gear—it all feels galaxies away from someone packing a Sony Alpha or a Canon R-series for a trip to Lisbon.

When you start comparing Canon’s mirrorless lineup, one of the first technical differences you’ll notice is how the shutter works. For photographers who want silence, speed, or durability, the choice between mechanical, electronic first-curtain (EFCS), and full electronic shutter matters a great deal. Across Canon’s EOS R range, each model implements shutter technology a little differently, reflecting its market position and price point. The Canon EOS R100 is the most limited.

There is a gap in your RF lens lineup that many of us photographers feel every time we head out for a shoot. We have stunning short telephoto primes like the RF 135mm f/1.8, and we have long telephoto zooms like the RF 70–200mm f/2.8. But what’s missing is a dedicated 200mm prime lens—a compact, lightweight, and sharp RF 200mm f/2.8 that delivers the magic of prime rendering without the bulk or cost of the f/2.

When photographers discuss gear, the Canon EOS R5 and the Canon EOS R100 sit on opposite ends of the spectrum. One is a flagship full-frame mirrorless powerhouse aimed at professionals, the other is Canon’s most affordable entry-level APS-C body designed to lure beginners into the RF ecosystem. The price gap is enormous — roughly $3,000 for the R5 body compared with about $480 for the R100 with kit lens. But the real question is: how much difference do you actually see in the final images?

There’s something almost cinematic about photographing street life with a Canon EF 100mm f/2.0 mounted on a crop body like the Canon R100. What you get is a perspective that compresses the scene, pulling the viewer closer to the details while keeping the background gently blurred into soft tones. This image of friends pausing on a seaside boardwalk captures exactly what makes that combination so special—an ordinary encounter rendered with an intimacy that feels almost stolen.

The latest survey from Clutch captures a cultural turning point: AI-generated images have quietly crossed the line where most consumers can no longer tell the difference between what’s real and what’s artificial. Before seeing any examples, two-thirds of respondents were sure they could spot an AI image. But when put to the test, more than half were wrong, a finding that underscores just how seamless AI visuals have become. Younger generations, often thought of as more digitally savvy, performed only slightly better, with many of those most confident in their ability to detect fakes still misidentifying them.

Every meme worth its salt has that punch of truth hidden beneath the absurdity. The one that gets me every time is the classic “but there will be signs.” Most people imagine vague omens—strange lights in the sky, cryptic graffiti on an alley wall, maybe a goat with unnervingly human eyes. For me, though, the sign of all signs would be far more tangible, ergonomic, and priced just slightly north of common sense.