To be or not to be.
To be in the moment, or to not be in the moment.
To take a picture, or to not take a picture.
Whenever I’m out the same conundrum occurs. This feels like a special moment, I should take a picture. That’s a cool thing, I should take a picture. Wow, look at that sunset, I should take a picture. Or, no I shouldn’t. I should not take a picture. I should just let it be. Just let the moment be special. Just let the thing be cool. Just let the sun set for christ sake. Not every moment needs to be captured, I remind myself. Just stay in it every now and then. Because the last thing I want to do is be on my phone the whole night trying to make sure I get photos of every single memory. And I especially don’t want to spend even more time making sure if the picture was good or not. This is where the beauty of having a film camera enters the stage. I’m not going to say everyone should get a film camera, that’s specifically why I didn’t title this article that way. What I will say is everyone should at least consider it.
Film cameras are a beautiful thing for three reasons: Limitation. Imperfection. Delayed gratification. First, you only get so many pictures. Second, you only get so many pictures and many of those pictures don’t turn out as good as you thought they were going to be. And third, you only get so many pictures and many of those pictures don’t turn out as good as you thought they were going to be and you don’t find out until much later. Often days or weeks later. But, again, these are the reasons having a film camera is beautiful.
You only get so many, but such limitations invite intention—your shots are limited so you make them count. And because you intend to make them count, you are much more aware of moments passing by. You find many don’t turn out that good, but the ones that do feel damn near perfect. And because you’re not striving for perfection, when do you get a great shot—one where you finally got the focus to focus—it feels that much better. You don’t find out until later. And when you do you are transported back in time, perhaps finally recognizing the value of the moment that’s already passed. All together, these reasons, these principles, these flaws make having a film camera a beautiful experience over and over and over.
But, if there’s anything I’ve learned, having a film camera has nothing to do with taking pictures. It helps me zoom out and remind myself our days are limited, invariably imperfect, and some of the best are yet to come. And as the days pass, the same conundrum keeps occuring.
To take a picture, or to not take a picture.
To be in the moment, or to not be in the moment.
To be or not to be.
