I long time ago I had to pick up a camera for a photography class. Being of little means (as most in my class) I picked up a camera from a second hand store. It had just about every problem you could possibly have with a camera. Most notably, a light leak. I spent literally days trying to make it work. It took about a roll of film to get one usable picture for grade so nights developing film in a dark room were long. After a few “no grade, more effort” I was frustrated. More effort??
The class came and went, yet that camera stayed with me. So did the dark room. I found that at first I was trying to get what I thought was the perfect picture for a perfect grade but as time went by I found myself liking the other pictures. Light leaks, uncontrolled manual focuses and all. No, this is not a crafted sermon titled: “Focusing on one thing means you miss other things”. I have heard more than a few three point ones on that - no alter calls here.
I felt like the photos were like memories themselves instead of a memory that is a photo. Because of that, I am writing probably the most intimate thing I ever have in the same manner that camera took photos. Gray corners, orange streaks down the left side and a focus on something I didn’t expect at all. A wonderful thing. Beautifully unexpectedly. Beautiful.
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