Film as time machine.

When I go home this December for the holidays, I am going to drag along the Bronica, so to shoot people I haven't seen for too long now. Normally I would just shoot digital, but I am reminded that computers crash, and if you've been irresponsible, all your shit goes with it.

Film is a hard copy. It's not forever, but it'll likely outlast those jpegs languishing on your HD, waiting to be freed. If I learned one thing in the AF as an electronics technician it's that electrons do whatever the fuck they want, and whatever the fuck they can. This is at odds with your human desire to hold onto shit for as long as possible (only to lose interest later, and let it slip anyway).

I will shoot my friends and family in MF, in quality. They will feel uncomfortable, make jokes, smile, do what they are fucking told. No one will be happy with the results until years after, when their skin has sagged a little more, their eyes sunken, and their crows feet turned into whole god damn crows. I know this because I know people who I can't shoot anymore, and wish I had something a little more permanent than some 1's and 0's quietly escaping from some form of storage.

The digital world is violently dynamic. No one can keep up. Formats come and go because the market landscape is like the open sea. Film has weathered the storms and the doldrums, and anything worth looking at is worthy of medium format film, with all it's expense and bother.

Am I holding on? Sure, why not. When you dedicate your life to moving as often as possible, just see what you try to hold onto. I like looking at stuff. I am a deeply visual creature. Guess who else is?

I am taking your fucking picture:

Mom
Chad
Linda
Michelle
Aaron
John
Carrie
Ben
Dana
Al
Eunice
(more names later*)


*here, the word later is meant to signify "probably never".