You'd be smiling too, amirite?
"We need some holiday dog toys, Frank."
"But boss, it's almost quittin' time!"
"Fine. Knock the top off that bone shape and make it a reindeer head. Then place a tree graphic right in the middle. Problem solved.
...
You know, it's a good thing the ends of bones don't look like anything or else we'd all be in real trouble, Frankie."
That really does seem like a paper I would have written in college.
From the series Stuff I See While I Drive Around Denver.
I went to Walgreens and bought a four-pack of Kodak 400 film (not expired AFGA Chrome used by Stalin's personal photographer or anything), and put it in Sarah's old Olympus consumer point and shoot (not in a cool old Russian Leica knockoff or a Chinese limited edition pink plastic twin lens reflexive or whatever else is on Lomography1) and took some photos between Christmas & New Year's. It was awesome.
Not being able to instantly see my photos (and, without exception, begin to criticize them) was very, very difficult at first, but, as any other schmuck under 30 with a blog and a camera will say: it became very freeing.
Expanding on what Eddie Pepitone tweeted recently, instant gratification is a great religion and when it comes to photography, I usually worship at the altar of the LCD playback. Losing that habitual instant self-criticism -- plus realizing that my limits were no longer thousands of digital frames, but in fact only 24 precious little rectangles of chemically altered cellulose -- I started to have a great time.
So here, dear readers, is a little snapshot of my world, seen on warm, imperfect film. Here's to many, many more rolls:
Don't get me wrong, I'd conceive, birth and sell a kid to get my hands on most of their expired film and awesome (if kind of expensive) cameras if I could. But trendy lo-fi equipment wasn't the point here. ↩
You know MC stands for "Michael Caine," right?
