A collection of scraps of moments captured with film from the past year. These are tiny snippets of the seemingly infinite series of the moments we live through. Each of these snippets feels so dear to me. I wonder, what is it about them?
Maybe it’s the existence of tangible physical proof of their authenticity (i.e. negatives). Or the rarity in contrast to the everpresent smartphone photos. Or maybe there is something special about these specific moments. The moments that spur me to shoot film.
The moments I choose to take out my metalic clumpy film camera rather than my iPhone. When I’m propelled to leave physical impressions of by exposing and burning strips of film, inaccessible and hidden till developed and scanned days or weeks later. Then stored within the plastic sheets of a binder.
There definitely is something about these moments, yet I lack words to aptly describe. Or maybe it’s the inconvenience of a ritual that endows them an air of speciality and added affection.
Maybe it’s just the vintage, retro, grainy aesthetics I so adore.
p.s. New Year’s Resolution: Stop scanning negatives using my old, second-hand, crappy EPSON scanner. Leave it to the experts (or get a better scanner).