driven to take pictures.

I have a confession for you: I am obsessed with a camera. I have spent the last couple of days agonizing over it. These pictures are not from said camera. 


We have this family that we're friends with, the Snyders... Luke's parents gave him two vintage film cameras along with their respective set-ups, and he passed them on to me. One is a Minolta x370. It came with three different fast prime lenses. When I saw these lenses I fell in love. They aren't housed in cheap plastic... they are solid and so smooth to focus. I fell hard for this camera right away. The minute I looked through the viewfinder,  I was ecstatic and I couldn't stop thinking of it. The view was beautiful. The other camera is a Fujica ST605N. It came with a 55mm f/2.2, but the focus is sticky and the view is not so nice. The lens is not nearly as high quality. I went the next morning and bought film.


I ruined the first two rolls of film right off the bat. One of them I rewound back into itself after only a couple of shots. The other, I opened after shooting the whole roll but before the film was rewound. I threw those away and loaded a third roll into my camera. 


I just sat there and took pictures of my feet and legs on my coffee table. I couldn't get over the picture I was seeing through that viewfinder. I waited until Piper woke up from her nap, then packed her in the car and dropped this roll off at the camera store. I went to JoAnns and bought some zippers and stuff while waiting the hour for it to develop. When that hour was up, I picked up my prints and paid. I sat in the car and looked at the pictures... and I couldn't believe how beautiful they were. They weren't beautiful because of the subject matter; they were beautiful because the images were at the same time sharp as a tack and yet soft. There was a natural vignette from the camera... the colors darkened gently around the edges of the frame. The light meter on the camera had directed me to the perfect exposure, the perfect combination between light and dark (and I was so worried they wouldn't be exposed properly because I couldn't check in my LCD screen). These images had the look that editing programs and actions try to give digital pictures.... but this time, I had composed my shot, chose an exposure, positioned each element in the frame, and then committed to that image by clicking the shutter. The image went straight into the camera, onto the film, and was developed and printed onto paper. This is an honest process. I felt so proud of my pictures and confident that I made that happen. I didn't edit them in any way. I was hooked.


I couldn't wait to get home and photograph Piper.. she looks especially pretty after her naps, and I wanted to capture her on film. I loaded a new roll, started shooting, and ran into some problems. The mirror started locking in the up position. I didn't know that this was the problem... all I could tell was that the view through the finder was dark. I thought the batteries were dead. I packed up the car again and drove to the camera store to buy batteries, which they no longer carry because this camera is from the mid-eighties. Really. I was re-directed to Radio Shack. I drove across the street to the Shack, parked my car, got Piper into her stroller, and hustled in to buy my batteries and bring my camera back to life. I set up shop right there at the counter, removing the old batteries, putting in new batteries, and expressing my frustration when the camera still. would. not. work. I was dismayed. Drive home, google the issue, find out it is the mirror, a common problem for this kind of Minolta (because it is, like, old). Gently press on the shutter curtain and the mirror drops back into place. Problem solved. 


I shoot another roll of film...shots of my sweet little girl. She gives kisses freely right now, and they make the best pictures, her little face is so precious. I wanted to remember this time together on this new medium that I was so moved by. I shoot two rolls and drop it off to be developed.


And I find out there is a problem.


I know this because when I drop it off to the nice people at wolf camera, they take down my name and phone number and tell me they'll call me if something is wrong with the film. They did indeed call me. It costs me about ten dollars to buy four rolls of 200 fujifilm, and then it costs about ten dollars to have the film developed and either printed or scanned and saved onto a disc as digital files. Keep that in mind as the story unfolds. Remember that shooting film is not like shooting digital... I have an emotional connection to each one of those shots because I planned them. I waited. I framed the shot. I calculated exposure. Each of these shots has a little piece of my heart in it. The camera store people said that the film was totally blank except for a couple of half exposures. At this point, I run home to try another roll, drop it off and desperately wait... and another call. No pictures. Blank film. Something is wrong with my camera.


So I have spent the past couple of days trying to fix the camera. Trying to resurrect that experience of art happening in real time in my life as I look at my little girl through a lens and press the shutter release. I can't fix it. This is a job too big for me. That feeling of helplessness is really unsettling... the feeling that things are broke, they are nothing like what they could be, and I can't fix it. The problem is beyond me. I don't even have a clue how to proceed. I could tell you how I was eventually comforted, but I just want to let this linger for a minute. This helplessness is one of those feelings that I spend so much time trying to avoid. I want to believe that I am on top of things. I want to think that I am capable of fixing the things that are wrong with my life, not only on a small level like this, but a large level as well. The truth is that I am not. This whole incident was a reminder of my smallness, of my finite-ness, of the fact that I am not all knowing, or all seeing, or all powerful, or ever present. I am so weak. I can't even fix a camera... much less my own life.


Today I broke down and bought another camera body on ebay. The thing is, the body is not what makes these images so remarkable. It is the lenses. These lenses are perfection. They are what make the image so beautiful. My new (old) x370 will arrive in three to seven business days.


So this was a valuable experience for me. Even though I am out some money, and time, and shots that could have been, I was comforted because I see things that I do wrong in my life and sometimes they are unsettling. They are unsettling because I forget my smallness. I have failed at friendships, decisions, creativity, business choices, I have been selfish as a mom and wife, I have chased after an idea of myself as bigger and better. But my husband always tells me to follow the truth wherever it leads, and he is so right. There is so much rest in that. 


And I am so excited that my new camera is on the way :)


I'll leave you with some shots from the Fujica... I eventually was so frustrated that I stopped trying to fix the Minolta and just took some pictures. That is how the shots above from my d300 came to be as well. You can see the rest of my film shots here.

I haven't yet scanned those images of my feet and legs. That will mean another trip to the camera store :) I will share those soon, promise.

In remembering my weakness, I feel like I re-discovered the joy of taking pictures. I feel like I can trust my instincts more. I can have confidence in my images. I recently read an interview with an amazing photographer. One of the things he said that has stuck with me is this (he's talking about how he got to where he is now from his beginnings): 

I simply stuck to my guns and decided that if I couldn’t shoot in the style that I wanted, then I would go and do something else. By sticking to my style, I was able to improve my skills as I wasn’t distracted by other styles. I’ve always wanted to master my style, and if you give me another 20 years and I’ll be somewhere close to mastering it.

Oh man, that is so good. Despite my smallness, and even though I may fail at times, I can use my creative impulse and make things that are beautiful. I can stop obsessing to make sure that things look how I want them to on my LCD screen and instead experience what is going on around me through the camera... and the outcome just ends up being so special. By not trying to be perfect, I can be me. 


I am totally hooked in film and can't wait to share more with you.
xo
paige