A few weeks ago I dusted off my mom's 35mm camera that she used during her college years. I popped in some black-and-white film, and I set out on a hike. Through the viewfinder, I took in the winter wonderland that was Lexington, Ky., and basked in the silence of freshly fallen snow.
There's something relaxing and freeing about re-embracing a film camera. Forget instant gratification: Anticipation and eagerness build as you wait to develop the film. Will the photos turn out? Will they not? If you didn't get the perfect shot, oh well. The soothing action of setting up a pleasing shot, the rhythmic shutter of the camera and the hope of the image to come all combine to make the perfect memory.
I thought I'd share with you some of the imperfect prints from my 35mm adventure. My exposure time is a little rusty, and sure, the prints aren't as sharp as their digital counterparts. But these imperfections seem to add to the whimsy of the images and the peacefulness of the day. I rather like them.