I don't know if using a camera I have affection for makes me use it better than one I have no particular feeling for, but on the other hand, it doesn't harm my photos, either. And I derive enjoyment in using a camera I am fond of, so that seems a good enough reason to use it, supposing that I am understanding of its limitations and use it within those parameters.
What I'll add is that, the more experience you gain regarding the photographic process, the less "mystery" hangs around the tools and processes themselves. I still had a bit of Magic Box Syndrome when I bought my first really good camera (Canon F-1), moving from a Yashica GTN. Yeah, my photography in fact
did improve noticeably, and not just technically, but I think I was attributing too much of my photographic "enlightenment" to the camera in my hand at the time. If you handed me Lance Armstrong's bike, I doubt my lap times around Prospect Park would budge all that much, although the riding experience itself might be interesting. I'm too old and experienced
not to "own the process", regardless of the tool at hand.
But I firmly believe you have to
like the tools you're working with. This has less to do with certain limitations of the gear (RFs have a smaller range of focal lengths than SLRs, and so on) as it does with how you get on with it in general terms (intuitive/quick handling, non-confusing controls, etc.) These are often things you might not reflect upon until you've had a camera for several years, long after the first flush of fascination has faded (though the images taken, hopefully, have not
🙂). I usually only think about this if I've started thinking at all about replacing what I've got with something else. This hasn't happened to me in a long time as far as my main shootin' iron is concerned. I've had the occasional p/s camera come and go (I'm currently addicted to my new-to-me Contax Tvs, which I've had since about May, while sending off my Konica Lexio 70 to Galfriend's niece in Iceland), but that's about it. "Pride of ownership" is something I don't quite grok anymore. Happiness, or at least serious contentedness with these things, I
do grok.
("Happiness" at least by this metric, is a 'fridge full of film and a head full of ideas.)
- Barrett