LX5 puzzlement

(First started writing this in 2010, but didn’t get around to posting till 2012. Urk)

Panasonic’s Lumix LX5 was a much anticipated update of their LX3 camera, and was released a couple of weeks ago here in Canada. I picked one up about a week ago, and after playing with it for a few days I’m a little concerned that I may have shot myself in the foot with the purchase.

Put simply, I’m unhappy with the JPEG images produced. The  images seem to be of lower quality than my previous pocket camera, the Canon SD1200 taken at the same ISO and at the highest quality setting for each. The Panasonic JPEG seems noisier, and the image overall seems softer.

It’s difficult to compare them directly, since while they are both 10 Mpix cameras, the sensors are different sizes, and their respective lens’ 35mm equivalents are not identical. Still, adjusting to give the same approximate size, the JPEG images on the Panasonic seem a little more blurred than those produced by the Canon. It seems to be a matter of choice on Panasonic’s part, and they chose to go with somewhat smaller, lower quality JPEGs. I’m not pleased by that, but I can live with it. Saving things in RAW form seems to be OK, and I can pull decent quality JPEGs from those images in Aperture, Photoshop, or even iPhoto. I guess I needed higher capacity memory cards anyway!

And the beat(ing) goes on…

This is something of a progress report and a self-indulgent moan combined.

I have no clue if this is normal – it may be that I simply read too much into things, and that exaggerate the severity of symptoms simply because I know that I should have them. However, this morning, on waking, I found myself unable to focus on a printed page.

I can read, but only by moving things around and interpreting the changing shapes, and this is a very slow process. An episode of scintillating scotoma which obscures a further part of my vision complicates things even further. As the morning advances I hope things improve (as they have been doing over the time it has taken to pick out this note). The scotoma should expand and ultimately disappear after about half-an-hour, and focusing should improve as my eyes dry out.

This is the shape of things to come, though, and it’s a depressing prospect. Still, though I stumble around the house I can still watch the sunrise and see the shadows shortening across the back lawn. I could wallow in gloom, or embrace the brighter side. For today, the whine has been poured out, and I’ll drink no more of it.