Years ago, when I was a pimply faced, pre-orthedontured adolescent, my father gave me an old Canon AE-1 35mm camera. I took it with me everywhere, photographing friends, staging photo shoots with old bed sheets, documenting everything from the Rose Bowl parade to my cats. Of course, with the advent of digital and my introduction to college parties (and the need for small, tiny, itty-bitty cameras), my first love gradually started collecting dust…until a wonderful friend gave me two rolls of black and white film for my birthday.
At the end of August, I hit the road to explore my home country and brought along my trusty old camera. I just got the first roll developed yesterday, and let me tell you, I missed the feeling of anticipation when you get that envelope of freshly developed photos. Did the turn out? The shot that you imagined in your head, did it translate in the same way onto film?
I love this re-introduction to my first camera. I’m rediscovering how it captures things, what light works best without a flash and what different apertures do. And of course, how wonderful is that sharp click that only manual film cameras make?