2003

They were my favourites…

They allowed me to be bold, they gave me permission to go out and explore… alone.

I was in control, they saw what I wanted them to see. We went to places I wouldn’t go on my own, I had an excuse with them.

Photographic Film.

The whole experience is a very personal process. You and the camera go out in a search for things that appeal to your eye. After you’ve captured these moments your return with your surprise hidden in a little canister. You could have botched it up and the entire roll could be blank. The roll could be average or it could be amazing. The gamble and anticipation was so alluring.

The first process was removing the film from the canister and loading it onto reel into the tank. It is done in complete darkness. Which is funny for an art form that depend so heavily on sight. You need to feel your way through the process. Can opener, scissors, reel… you crank as it loads… hopefully. Still unaware if the film is even any good you develop the film. Wash, develop, wash, and reveal. The satisfaction of seeing any images is worth the hard work.

In the dark room you line up your cut strips of film onto the enlarger and produce a contact sheet. Chemicals ready for the event. Develop, stop, fix, wash, then dry. Finally you can take the mystery into the daylight and hope that one out of the many negatives has something magical.

That moment when you find that one image, that one picture that exudes emotion, that expresses how you feel without you having to say a word. That moment makes photography addictive.

Back to the dark room with your prize. Where the process becomes more intimate. You develop it as is so you know what it truly looks like. Dodge, burn, mask… develop, stop, fix, wash, and dry. You manipulate the image to suit your needs. You are in ultimate control of what others see.