03 September 2011

Film.

Like any good photog, gotta bend for the right shot ;)

Last Christmas, my dad gifted me his old Pentax that was given to him in 1973 by a friend's dad. This precious token has survived over 25,000 bicycle miles, Oregon mountain climbs, Smokey Mountain travels, camping trips, and even our family vacays and growing-up moments. Before he gave it to me, he had developed an aged roll of film remaining in the camera, and found photos he took of my little brothers on a camping trip - old memories revived back to life. I am so honored to be using a lens that has seen his most sacred adventures and captured the raw truth of daily life.

At the beginning of the summer, my dad and I made it a goal to take a photo excursion in which I could teach him the art of digital, and he could teach me all about film. Armed and loaded with cams in hand, we strolled Southport Ave for all the photo-optical charm that it so naturally offers. 

Summer is best lived on Southport
As we maneuvered our cameras, stretched for angles, and chatted over composition and lighting, I overflowed with delight behind the lens. I love photography because it gives life to the details, magic to the ordinary, and attention to the passing time. But the thing I love most about it is that I share it with my dad. This photo excursion was a defining moment of my summer that will be triggered with each click of the lens. 

My dad's shot via digital cam
Because of this outing, my summer story is told through a series of photos captured on the Pentax, just as my dad did with so many of his adventures. Unlike digital, with film you can't replay a moment for the right light or angle, you can't doctor the picture to make it more unique or "vintage" - it is what it is. Untouched and beautiful in it's truest state. You only get one shot, and the appearance of that shot remains a mystery until the photo is a physical object in hand. It takes patience, precision, and courage to search for the shot that's worth it. For these reasons, I fell in love with film this summer... and my dad has fueled much of the creative inspiration and confidence to play with this kind of art. 

All good photo outings end with beer & pizza.
When my dad gave me his Pentax, he closed his letter like this:
"Lance Armstrong said it well: "It's Not About the Bike." And it's not about the camera. Rather your joy, exploration, and unique expression and experience. So no matter which camera or even which kind of art you do, it is my joy that you are able to experience, capture, share and express your creative self, which I know to be a truly beautiful, beautiful self."


Thank you for showing me the truth in those words, dad. I look forward to living more moments that strike me as reason to be seen through the lens of the Pentax.

1 comment:

Lately.