Going analogue is all the rage. Escaping the digital revolution, the Facebook pokes prompting you to like a grumpy cat, or the twitterati infestations of hashtags, supporting this campaign or that. Unplugging, a little is a good thing. Saves the earth for one thing…I should tweet that. Equally, you can’t totally unplug – what would you do with that fancy new iPad Air 2, that’s thinner than a pencil and can bring down dictatorships, or entertain the cat with dancing lights. I had an idea for photography project after the car accident, to create a book of film days, using different camera’s that I’ve accumulated. The mighty Leica and summicron, my dad’s dashing Minolta SRT 101, the photo-journalists Nikon FM, and the techno-behemoth medium format Fuji GA645 Pro. I even have a Longines mechanical watch now. Who need’s batteries (well, you do for the light meters in those cameras…)
The project would start as taking one image on each camera per day…a plan perfect if I had nothing else to do in my day. That’s the problem with film of course – pressure to get a good image. But then what’s a good image. How many digital images do we own that say nothing, that are just a visual post-it note, or become hyper-reality once processed to death with the latest Photoshop plugin? Loading a film, and winding it on to zero with a satisfying mechanical shutter click. Winding my watch is holding time in my hands. A bloody hassle of course, but there’s a charm to it. Recharging depleted batteries is a clinical and worrisome affair as you never remember to charge them prior to needing the blessed black boxes. Of course, I should be writing this out on a fine cartridge paper with a beautiful ink fountain pen under the flickering illumination of a candle. Rage against the digital machine, but keeping a few spare batteries in your bag is always good advice.