Tuesday, January 3, 2017
I developed some film at home a couple of days ago. I'd forgotten how much control you can have over the final product. I am going to begin experimenting with chemical formulas I have not used before in combination with a variety of films. This one was cooked up with the same formula that I used in college. It is pretty standard--Tri-X souped in straight D-76. It works to give a good resolution, medium grain negative. I shot this with my Leica R5 SLR. I love this camera and I realize I love SLRs. Now that I have spent a bunch of money on a Leica Digital Rangefinder.
But I like that one, too. They are all for different things.
It takes me about half an hour to develop the film. Then there is the cutting and sleeving and scanning. Then I have what I would have had if I had just pushed the button on a digital camera. But not really. Only in terms of time. The process of making film photographs is kind of thrilling. You don't know what you have, but you don't keep taking pictures because its film. Every frame seems precious. And there is a sort of truth about the final product that seems truer than other things.
I was sitting at a cafe table when I took this picture. It is not exactly what I thought I took, but it is better. Film is thrilling.
I do not like working. I am so much happier not working. I know that seems obvious, a truism, but not everyone is as happy not working as I. I do not get bored. I don't know how anyone can get bored. There is always more to do than I can manage. I don't want to work even part-time. Not a single hour a week. I am adamant about this. Working for wages should be considered the number cause of ill-health and death.
I can say that until I look at the homeless. Then I realize that not having money is. Or worse, working for low wages.
So. . . I must end this nonsense in order to do my factory work. All of the sickeningly sweet holiday posts are done. There will not be time for elaborate meals or bowls of arranged fruit or flower petals floating in shallow vases. There will be no more rum cakes (I forgot to tell you about that) and culinary art. Life will get back to that quick dash to the gym, the day gruelingly spent under fluorescent lights at a factory desk, the tired preparation of the evening meal, and. . . oh, yes--this is a No Drink January. And an evening drink of coconut water or tonic and lime.
Back. . . back. . . back. . . to the grind.
Posted by cafe selavy at 8:13 AM