There’s something about film photography that makes me feel so grounded in reality. It feels like time itself stands still a little bit longer and my senses feel engaged a little deeper.
In a digital world that demands we keep up with an algorithm, endless reels with endless opinions, AI curated content, impulsivity to post every single moment and highlight of one’s life, and a gluttonous approach to media itself; one that ultimately feeds the ego more than serving others and genuinely connecting with others, living in reality - not a phone - can seem like a foreign concept.
At least, it can to me. I’d be the first to admit I am a (recovering) addict to my phone and prone to getting sucked into the hype of digital happenings. The internet is just noisy these days. It’s like arriving at a symphony or art gallery and expecting something of beauty, but instead being forced to sit through cacophony and kitsch.
Two years ago, I wrote a manifesto of sorts that included how I wanted to shoot more film than digital photography, and I’ve come to realize how powerful writing things down, even making them public, can be. I picked up a simple, 1980s Minolta camera, 50mm lens, and just allowed my intuition, curiosity, and things I’ve found fascinating to lead the way.
I haven’t used a light meter, haven’t known how each roll would turn out, and haven’t had any sort of crazy expectations. Film has both challenged me to make the most of each exposure and also embrace what I’d otherwise deem an “imperfection” to those that show up differently on scans than I initially anticipated.
I love the blur, the grain, the wild colors, moody black and white, and the way it has helped my mind to slow down, be a little more patient, endure the mental art of actually waiting for something, rather than feeling the pressure to upload and deliver 20 images within 24 hours (even the relief of conveying the news to everyone that it might take a month or so before there’s even a preview), and the way it’s helped me to appreciate reality in its rawest form - unfiltered and unedited - a little more.
Join me for a walk from the end of 2025-2026.
