The catalogue of Adobe Lightroom metadata lists 37 cameras and 124 lenses—the digital end of a fragmented journey that began with film SLRs and medium‑ to large‑format systems.

I stepped away from photography and into a twenty-year career in corporate communication design—annual reports and corporate identity systems—more successful than I ever expected, and honestly, deserved. We bought Macintosh computers in 1984 to run the photo studio, but emerging new technologies in design and publishing changed my career path.

During this nearly two‑decade hiatus, my photo passions went to testing digital darkrooms and forcing Photoshop into spot colors, allowing most of my gear to quietly disappear as my priorities shifted elsewhere.

Later, and for many more years, I taught visual communications in undergraduate and graduate programs, including courses involving all levels of Photoshop. Ultimately, though, it was being commissioned to create BFA and MFA photo majors which reignited my return to photography—albeit, in digital form. The curriculum I designed, by the way, included many studio classes in film and darkroom. Digital imaging wasn't new to me, but photo again became my obsession.

I returned to Leica once again, to be a photographer again—forcing more participation in a way other digital systems can not. With that said, the current toolbox consists of five bodies in two systems—rangefinder and mirrorless—each equipped with primes of nearly the same focal length. The M system has been allowed a few extra simply because there are so many amazing adaptable lenses out there. Some are chosen for their size and weight, but all are chosen for their unique rendering. I've separated M and EF lenses into the kits they usually fall into, but there are no absolutes.

CANON R5 MIRRORLESS

CANON RF 28 STM, RF 14‑35mm ƒ4 L IS, RF 24‑105mm ƒ4 L IS, and RF 100-500mm ƒ4.5‑7.1 L IS

ZEISS ZE 15mm ƒ2.8 Distagon, ZE 25mm ƒ2 Distagon, ZE 50mm ƒ1.4 Milvus‑Distagon, ZE 100mm ƒ2 Makro Planar, adapted to R5 with CANON EF‑RF control ring adapter

LEICA M10-MONOCHROM AND M10-R DIGITAL RANGEFINDERS

LEICA M 21mm ƒ3.4 Super Elmar ASPH (11145), M 28mm ƒ2.8 Elmarit ASPH II (11677), M 28mm ƒ1.4 Summilux ASPH (11668), and M 50mm ƒ1.4 Summilux ASPH II (2023 close-focusing, 11728)

NIKKOR-H.C. NIPPON KOGAKU 5cm ƒ2 Black Belt LTM with OWLKROWN L39 M-adapter (6‑bit coded)

VOIGHTLÄNDER VM 15mm ƒ4.5 Super Wide Heliar III ASPH (BA279B)*, and VM 90mm ƒ2.8 APO-Skopar (6‑bit coded, BA375S)*

ZEISS ZM 28mm ƒ2.8 Biogon (6-bit coded, 2030-089), and ZM 50mm ƒ2 Planar (6‑bit coded, 2030‑095)

LEICA SL2-S MIRRORLESS

LEICA M 90mm ƒ2 APO Summicron ASPH (11884), adapted to SL2-S with LEICA M–Adapter L (18771)

LUMIX S 24-60mm ƒ2.8 (S-E2460 Elmarit), LUMIX-S 40mm ƒ2 (S-S40S), and LUMIX-S 100mm ƒ2.8 Macro (S‑E100)

NIKON NIKKOR F 28mm ƒ2.8 AI-S CRC (Close Range Correction), adapted to SL2-S with PHOLSY F-L

VOIGHTLÄNDER VM 50mm ƒ2 APO-Lanthar (6‑bit coded, 110784), adapted to SL2-S with LEICA M–Adapter L (18771)

ZEISS ZE 21mm ƒ2.8 Distagon, ZE 28mm ƒ2 Distagon, adapted to SL2-S with VILTROX EF‑L

LUMIX S9 MIRRORLESS

LEICA M 24mm ƒ3.8 Elmar ASPH (11648), M 75mm ƒ2.5 Summarit (11645), adapted to S9 with LIGHT LENS LAB Helicoid Leica M‑Adapter L

LUMIX-S 20-60mm ƒ3.5-5.6 ASPH (S-R2060)

VOIGHTLÄNDER VM 35mm ƒ1.5 Nokton Type II (6-bit coded, BA373A, adapted with LLL

Postscript

Over the years, I’ve experienced lenses of nearly every focal length and design philosophy. The process has been exploratory, deliberate, and educational.

I’ve finally realized that I’m drawn to lenses built around certain classic optical designs: the symmetric (or near-symmetric) wide-angle logic of the Zeiss Biogons, 21 SEM, and 24 Elmar; the retrofocus Distagons found throughout my once-DSLR kit (along with a few Angénieux gems); and the double-Gauss/Planar lineage of the Makro-Planars. Aspherical elements, low-dispersion glass, and floating groups have reshaped many of these formulas, but the underlying optical logic still produces images that please my soul.

I love great glass, maybe more for the engineering and rendering than any image I'll likely ever extract. Although I’ll probably always explore lenses, the ones here today have earned their special place, aligning with the shooting experience I value and the rendering qualities I seek. Some legends have come and gone, and I do miss certain lenses from past systems, but dating camera bodies means you can’t marry every lens.

TACK DRIVERS AND SLEDGEHAMMERS

I once embarked on a long search for the perfect 50mm in EF mount—native, adaptable, or cannibalized with a metal file—and along the way realized that owning more than one lens at the same focal length isn’t redundancy or indecision, but rather, intention. I tried a dozen 50‑to‑58mm lenses from Zeiss (Sonnar, Planar, Distagon, even a Jena Biotar—and their Russian post‑war descendants, Jupiter and Industar), Voigtländer, Tamron SP, Sigma Art, new and old Canons, fast and slow—down to a slightly radioactive Minolta Rokkor 58mm ƒ1.2. I kept more than one.

Among the viable contenders, in the end, some lenses are simply better at certain distances, certain apertures, certain subjects—or perhaps they just bring a certain je ne sais quoi.  You can’t trash a bird for not swimming well.

Detours in an Optical Path

None of what I own now was my first choice in any focal length. Within eighteen months of my starting my second Leica journey, I flipped a 28mm pre-ASPH Elmarit IV for a 28mm Summicron v1 ASPH, then v2 ASPH, and finally a 28mm Summilux ASPH. (The Summicrons, as it turns out, were perhaps too corrected, or I just really needed an excuse to justify the Summilux.) More 28s came and (some) went—along the way, realizing that my favorite lenses on one body might not be as drool-worthy on a different body. You can tie this dog to the porch, but I’ll still bark at the 28s (and 50s) going past.

A 25mm Zeiss ZM Biogon—my second M-mount lens for digital, and a favorite focal length of mine in the ZE Distagon ƒ2 and Fuji XF 16mm ƒ1.4 incarnations—lasted less than forty‑eight hours before being replaced by a 21mm Elmarit on the M246, which I later swapped for the 21mm SEM when I moved to the M10's. I eventually got another 25mm, but as a 24mm Elmarit, which was also traded for a 24 Elmar, supposedly tuned for higher resolution sensors. The latter was an especially difficult decision to move from a trusted ƒ2.8 to a newer, more ambivalently-reviewed ƒ3.8 version, but for me, the improved wide‑open corner performance more than compensated for the loss of speed. The new hood design on these is also much more compact.

Today, that 24 rides with the S9 as its focal length pairs nicely with the 35 Nokton, and honestly, they were each difficult to carry in leu of (or additionally with) my preferred 28mm. The 35 was about to go on the selling block, but was granted a stay of execution until there's more visual evidence. Same with 75—a great street lens—but too close to both 50 and 90mm. The S9 was brought in solely as a less precious body to which I could adapt M lenses, but hadn't planned on these.

Trades continued; around the same time, the perfectly competent 90mm Summarit ƒ2.5 gave way to the quintessential 90mm APO‑Summicron ASPH, rounding out my Peter Karbe design–era lineup. Optically, it was a meaningful upgrade—much heavier (but oddly, not much larger), and the need for larger filters were the real costs. Lenses, like life, involve trade‑offs.

Some M-mount trades were worthy upgrades; others were questionable improvements but perceived good investments. In the end, it was all in service of building a set of modern aspherical lenses—smaller, more refined, and better suited to higher‑resolution sensors. A core kit I told myself I’d never have to think about again—a set to have the same longevity that the Zeiss collection has provided to my DSLR bodies. Maybe I just believed the optical grass was greener on the aspherical side.

Not all that long ago, I wrote that I was at peace with my M‑system lenses and wouldn’t be trading the current toolkit. Thats still true with the 21, 28, 50, 90 core, but it didn’t mean I wouldn’t play with a few more. Since then, I acquired, and quickly sold, the pancake MS Optics 28 Apoqualia (horrible ergonomics, smeared corners, weak contrast, and just a digital ugliness)—and picked up a few others in search of lighter-weight, compact optics. I already found the best glass, but you don't need the fastest lenses (which are unquestionably the most cumbersome) when street hunting at ƒ8.

You can have steak and lobster every day, but sometimes you just want a taco.

The new acquisitions were driven by a search for affordable, pocket‑sized standouts, where optimum performance at slower apertures are all I need. This included the Zeiss 28 Biogon and 50 Planar, significantly easier to purchase, pocket, and punish than the Summilux sisters.

A few months later, a 1973 Mandler 40mm Summicron-C pancake, and the 1953 Japanese-modified Sonnar-design, Nikkor 5cm were added. The Summicron lasted only 5 months due to its vastly different rendering alongside others I carried with it. Even by itself, it's a little too dreamy, colors too 1970, and much too flat for the Monochrom. I'm really not sure where the 5cm fits, as I always prefer more modern glass, but maybe its distinctive character (and not quite being a true German Sonnar) is why it will likely stay. Luckily, exploration doesn't mandate permanence.

Once upon a time, I handed bodies to assistants to reload film, or simply switch to fresh bodies. Today, I juggle lenses on the street like I’m performing a kidney transplant on myself, hoping my elbow-clamp technique holds. Dropping the baby is not an experience I need twice. Fortunately, that story ended on a hardwood floor with minimal damage, but the lesson stuck: I’ve built two separate kits, with lenses chosen for color or monochrome rendering and smaller, more portable options mixed in.

I now keep a dedicated set of lenses for the Monochrom, with tone-modifying filters that can stay mounted. Carrying two bodies and some redundant focal lengths has scaled back the sidewalk surgery, but walking lens changes still leave me wishing for three hands.

The Headaches & Backaches of Getting Here

These days, the Canons and Zeiss lenses rarely travel with me. It seems like only a few years ago I was carrying two 5D‑series bodies, several Zeiss primes, a 16–35mm ƒ2.8L II and a 70–200mm ƒ2.8L IS II on full‑day hikes through urban jungles. Amazingly, it never felt like too much. But even earlier still, I spent entire summers hitchhiking across North America with a 1974 JanSport Greatsack loaded with seventy‑five pounds of gear, including a Mamiya 645 or later, a Bronica ETR, three glasszilla lenses, and a few bricks of 120 film. (Being an internal frame pack, I could keep it close to me if I had to dip, rather than the trunk of some serial killers car.)

Unfortunately for the brachial plexus nerve network of my shoulder, I had outright disdain for the subminiature 24×36mm format and didn’t own one for years. I eventually picked up a brassed Canon F‑1—much loved by me for its match‑needle metering and beautiful patina. As I later went to the Leica R film system for annual report SLR work, I sold it to an assistant (and great friend) on the bro-greement that I'd buy it back before it left the extended family. But no, Brutus traded it towards an AE‑1 and that camera was history.

The Canon digital kit began modestly in 2002 with a 1Ds, 16–35 and 70–200 ƒ2.8 zooms, anchored by a "fast" 50—the search that taught me there are no kings. As dissatisfaction with Canon’s wide‑angle optics grew, Zeiss primes gradually took their place. The same ZE lenses have lived in and out of the same Pelican® case for nearly two decades, and they aren’t going anywhere. The Canon EF primes, by contrast, were shown the door early.

After five knee surgeries and turning a hundred, my body no longer tolerates a DSLR and a bag of fast lenses built around one. My right shoulder has been permanently relocated lower than the left. In search of “less,” I added a dial-heavy Fuji X‑T system for a few years—with many outstanding lenses—but the X‑Trans sensor and APS‑C format ultimately didn’t suit my expectations or Lightroom workflow, or maybe I just should have just embraced film simulations. The Fuji experiment lasted almost 3 years, then went away (easily) to help fund the move to Leica once again.

That every EF lens is now gone—replaced by a few RF‑mount zooms for bad weather and reach—speaks volumes about my satisfaction with the final Zeiss lineup and my relative indifference to most Canon glass. The 70–200mm ƒ2.8L IS II was the only trade that felt like I had put my dog down. It was the last EF to go, really for size and weight reasons, but I told myself that shooting it wide open for that long-lens ƒ2.8 isolation had become a style unto itself—but you don’t carry fast glass to shoot it stopped down.

The last 5D Mark III—backup to my 5D Mark IV—was traded for a Canon R in 2018, and the 5D Mark IV was necessarily given up to help fund an R5 in 2022 while the trade‑in value was strong. Emotionally, I lost another Weimaraner. In 2023, the remaining EF ƒ2.8 zooms gave way to lighter, slightly slower RF ƒ4 versions, following a year with the supposedly more portable RF 70–200mm ƒ2.8L IS—it wasn’t for me, mostly because I'd always have to also carry two shorter lenses. As much as I love long, fast glass, I might love wides even more. I lost some compressed perspective, but I don't want to be mistaken for paparazzi anyway. Today, I'd rather work from the inside; the lenses are much lighter.

Leicas returned in 2022, beginning with a Q and a M246 Monochrom. Many argue the addiction starts with a Q, but the Monochrom was my gateway drug. If I was going to go full Leica, I might as well do it properly from the gate—with a newer, smaller M and the ultimate in 28mm and 50mm primes—which required freeing the funds tied up in the Q. Just as I declared the M10 Monochrom kit complete, all that great glass needed a color body and the rodeo continued. I kept finding so many other interesting lenses from a nearly 100 year history to try. The newest third-party options didn’t help. There are few disappointments—only big discoveries in small packages.

Happily, the ZE lenses adapt seamlessly to both the Canon R‑series and Leica SL systems. The SL2-S pairs differently with the Zeiss primes; a softer digital bite, perfect for the character-filled Zeiss 21 and 28 Distagons. I recently sold the 50 Makro Planar, once my best 50mm, so the 50 Milvus ended up back on the R5, along with the Zeiss 15, 25, and 100 Makro Planar.

There should be a blog page here soon, describing which lenses are engaged to which bodies, and why. It'll probably contain an AI report, as I asked it to tell me why I've chosen these pairings. I found it interesting—maybe you will as well.

After eight years, the original R was sold for Leica-drug money in 2026, leaving the RF zooms to ride on the R5 and split the ZE primes with the SL. The R is a beautiful and capable body, using the 5D Mark IVs acclaimed sensor and processor. Yet it got slammed by reviewers for having only one card slot. No one was using it, so it was eventually sold for some trip funding.

Marry lenses (maybe with a divorce or two along the way), but date digital bodies like beautiful romances—technology has a way of hailing the taxi when it’s time to leave the party.

I posted a historical gear list, really just because it was so much fun to remember it all. There were all the Canon 5D incarnations, some multiples, and a few 1Ds versions, with a couple of Leica Digiluxes, and Ricoh GRs tucked into pockets over the years. Life permitting, I might reminisce about these, the decades spent in darkrooms—building them, working in them—and shooting with analog Leica M’s and R’s, Hasselblads, Mamiyas, Sinars, and a half‑dozen SLRs—cameras I fondly revisit in the endless vintage shops around Hong Kong.

Process, Purity, and Other Myths