With thanks to Catie Riz, for sharing both her love of film cameras, and a few of the moments she captures on them.
How does one capture A Moment that they would like to remember?
After all, it will never truly exist anywhere else but That Moment.
It has ever existed before, and it will not exist again, except in a memory.
Aught you record it? Or should you just let it exist?
This is a pickle that I get myself in often.
My dear friend Catie records her Moments on Film.
We adventured into the high-country in July (23), and she brought out an old point and shoot.
Ever since, I have found an immense appreciation for her love of Film cameras.
Why take a photo that you do not know will turn out, and wait an indefinite amount of time for it to be developed when you could tap the little white button on the screen of your iphone13, and be rewarded with a fake shutter sound and instant gratification?
Rituals bring meaning to things that may otherwise have been meaningless.
Photographs are the furthest thing away from meaningless that I can think of,
for what else is a Photograph but a memory, suspended in time as clear as in the moment in which is was lived.
The slow, patient ritual of recording memories on film bring meaning to the images, not only in the recollection of that moment in time, but in the hues of light, the soft, grainy texture, the small blemishes, the human touch.