10 Ways to Console Yourself when Your DSLR Dies

I've had my Nikon D70 since 2005 and I've loved it and kept it close all the time since then. Within the last few months, its battery died and corrupted my memory card and then the shutter unit failed. Yesterday, my darling D70 and I had the best day ever. We drove 100km and photographed buzzards on telegraph poles and eagles in flight. Then we went on to our first real professional assignment ever - up in a helicopter to take photos of some development property. We flew over the sea and photographed dolphins and whales too. It was breathtakingly stunningly wonderfully incredibly amazing. Yes, I liked it. Then we went to photograph someone's guesthouse. And then ... the shutter failed again for the umpteenth time in a few days. That was it ... the dreaded 'error' on the display, no matter what. According to Nikon it could be the SQM motor going into failure. According to me, my poor old camera's just suffering old age and besides, I cannot afford to repair or replace it. At least it went out in a blaze of glory. I've been patting it occasionally and thanking it for years of good service and good times. Also for being my buffer against the world and my entry into whole new worlds. As my initial frustration at the experience faded, I was rather surprised by the complexity of emotions that surfaced - to the extent of me questioning my own identity as someone without a decent camera. At this stage, it's a case of finding a very cheap way to repair it, or ... goodbye camera.

Here you go then; 10 things to do when your camera breaks:

Google - it's the first law of the jungle. Even if you've been back to the manufacturer, check sites like instructables.com before you say the last rites. If the thing is dead, you have nothing to lose by disemboweling it and trying to fix it. Make the internet your first and last resort in times like these.

Have some pun with it. You might as well laugh and demand a cambulance, claim you've been camputated - if you have any more, please let me know. A friend of mine with a dead pc said he was computated after reading my blog entry on the subject.

The organ donor programme. If your camera body's a corpse, what are you doing with its accessories? If you won't need those particular lenses, sell them online and make some money. Your memory card/s will almost certainly fit other devices you own. You might even be able to use the battery in something else (many of those expensive lithium batteries fit in camcorders too, or perhaps you have a friend you could donate it to). If you don't want the strap, the bag etc, somebody somewhere will. Try freecycle.org

Say goodbye properly. Your trusty camera's probably been all over with you, through all kinds of situations. Before you dispose of it or enshrine it, take a moment to salute its bravery. Take a look at its final photographs and remember the good times. This is a tough step, but it's one of the essential healing stages of grief. And face it - your camera deserves it.

Mine your archives. I haven't met a photographer yet who doesn't have a good few gigs of photographs they haven't looked at in ages, maybe haven't ever looked at properly. Do some archaeology and see what you find. You might very well find stuff you can work on to use as stock, or sell, or just impress your groupies with. Take a trip down memory lane; you'll probably discover you're an even better photographer than you thought you were. Swell your ego and portfolio a bit.

Make art. Leave it somewhere unattended and film whoever steals it. Turn it into some kind of installation. Hang it around the neck of a statue and watch people's reactions. Throw it against a while screaming with rage; instant primal therapy and you can claim it was performance art and apply for a government grant. Put the body on a pedestal or something in your home, make a great fuss of it and title it, "Built-in Obsolescence as a Metaphor For The 21st Century." It can even be functional art. Use it as a paperweight. Throw it at an intruder. Keep your door open with it. I can't think of any more real uses, sorry.

Context. Your parents, although irritating, were right. Consider starving people etc and feel privileged to have owned a camera in the first place. This is a tricky one, because instead of consoling you about your loss, it could end up adding guilt to your already tender emotions. Use with care. I keep beating myself up about this one. Every time I apply context theory, my lizard-brain screams, "I WANT A CAMERA!"

Plan ahead. Even if you're flat broke, you can put a penny away and dream of a new camera. Feel proactive and empowered as you do something constructive about it all. Make yourself a camera fund and decide what can be sacrificed in order to get you to your goal faster.

Window shop. At first, it'll probably be too hard to look at the latest 47 gazillion megapixel camera without sobbing uncontrollably, but while your savings grow, use the time to thoroughly investigate your options. If it's going to take you as long as it'll take me to save up, there'll be time to decide on a camera, watch the next generation come out, read reviews, decide on a different camera ... this one could keep us distracted and indecisive forever.

Write more. If a picture paints a thousand words, you'll probably have to write a novel a day to keep pace with your photographic output. Channel your creativity somehow though - if you draw, do that; if you make interesting little sculptures from pasta, do that. If you're an Associated Content user, writing more is also a way to add more cents to the new camera fund.

5 things that didn't make it to the top ten, because they just didn't feel remotely satisfying:

Buy a cheaper camera. This doesn't work for anyone with a true passion for photography, although it's a good interim measure if you can afford it.

Use your cellphone camera instead. Valid and quirky, perhaps. You could certainly use it to try offbeat photo projects, but it isn't going to keep you happy forever unless you only ever publish online.

Make a pinhole camera. A cool thing to do, but see above.

Addiction. Could be distracting for a while, but will blur your vision and you don't want your own lenses ruined now do you? Sorrows swim revoltingly well.

Suicide. Just not feasible owing to the fact that you will leave too many unphotographed moments behind.