backstory

This photo of mine was actually cropped from this other photo I took:
It was taken on the first day of last year's lit trip, in Stratford-upon-Avon. We were late for the play and were hurrying towards the Royal Shakespeare Theatre, after dinner at the local pub. It was also bone-chillingly cold, with a persistent wind that flapped at our clothes and stung our extremities. We'd just turned the corner, on a beeline to the theatre, when I saw, to the left, a handful of small boats alongside this nice little dock. Afraid I'd trail behind if I lingered, I just took a rushed photo with my compact cam, hoping to do some photoshop touching-up when I got back. So, I finally got around to it last night, and managed to get the look and feel of the place that day (I think). Anyway I'm quite pleased with the way it turned out, and it's my wallpaper for the moment. It was also one of 5 photos I decided to upload last night (mostly taken and photoshopped ages ago). Check them out on my flickr.

essay

2 am.

The incessant whirring of the fan blades. Left, right, left, right, left. Tapping of the keys. Tap, tap, tap, tap. It'll be beautiful outside, black and wondrous and limitless. Imagine the possibilities, what infinitely fleeting poignant moment you could capture outside, in the wide expanse of just one mind. Imagine the dreams you could encounter, or the nightmares, it doesn't matter. Tap, whir. Whir, tap.

"If you live here, you live in the real world."

film

I feel like taking photographs again. Polaroid decided to stop making their special film - the type where photos can be instantly produced without having to wait for an hour at a print store. This has nothing at all to do with me. I have never owned a polaroid, and seeing the current updates, nor am I likely to own one in any future. Don't get me wrong, I know the benefits of polaroid. I've seen polaroids. I've had my picture taken on a polaroid, had the blank paper passed to me, had to shake it vigorously and watch my own face appear from the murky depths of god-knows-where. And the colours are amazing. In 1980, it must have been the closest thing to digitalism. Modernity in a polaroid. I want to take photos, but not with a digital camera, with film. Film needs a revival. You take a shot and you don't know how it's gonna turn out til maybe a day later. You don't waste film. You only keep memories that are worth keeping. Ultimately, though, the benefits of the digital still overwhelm film, I guess. I won't disillusion myself into being a purist, because I'm not. But I want to take photographs in film, and submit it for an exhibition, and have people look at it. If the appreciation exceeds the time captured within the photo, I'm pleased. But I don't want to keep the photo, hidden away in an album on a shelf, lying that I'll look at it and feel whatever I wanna feel, 5, 10, 20 years later. Maybe that's why I want to take a photograph. Just the sense of the exciting colours, the touch of the film in my hand, the smell of the dark room chemicals, possibly even fumbling in the dark. There's a romantic quality to it. Then again this might be a just another transient urge. Maybe tomorrow I'll say digital is the way to go. If only we could tell the future the same way we develop polaroids. A shake here, a jerk there, and the future...develops, from blurry nothingness to a vivid narration in seconds. Void to clarity. Maybe I just don't want to die before I've had a chance to take a film photo and develop it myself. Wouldn't that be an absolute waste?