Roll #1

The Joy

In this pandemic, of Covid and subsequently of being alone and thinking often, I have discovered the joy of shooting film. A tangible step away from the fast pace shutter clicks we have all been taught to chase, in film there is pause, there is time, patience, and many unknowns. It is not endless like digital that enables thousands, it is just 38 shots on a roll of 35 mm, and there is an interesting balance between being selective but not too precious. It must be used.

I have always loved photography and on occasion I have been told I have some talent, by biased, beloved friends of course. I am unsure what constitutes talent in a world where many have lenses no bigger than a thumb tack tucked away in their pockets and I am intimidated by the saturation of our globalized living, of instagram where everything is made seemingly perfect and professional. But I am more so constrained by myself. Recently I realized I am a creative, actually a friend told me this. I have always been one but I have never given it merit or attention, and I have never said it out loud. It makes me uncomfortable to make such grand claims: “I am a storyteller or I am a baker.” I prefer “sometimes I write, sometimes I bake bread, or sometimes I take pictures.” I don’t mean to be self deprecating, I mean to be humble, a trait I admire greatly, and to express the opinion that one rarely masters anything. There is always room to learn more.

In the past few months I have learned through many errors. I have exposed film to light, spooled film around the advancer backwards, and shot an entire roll of film only to open the camera and find it empty, I never reloaded it. Amidst the trials and tribulations of adjusting to the analog, this is the outcome of my first roll of film shot on a Canon AE-1 Program given to me a few years ago by a sweet friend. Besides straightening things here and there I plan to leave these photos largely untouched, over exposed, under exposed, in focus or not, however they come out that is how they will be.

the end.

ROLL #2

Nothing To Shoot

As everyday life putters along, it is easy to feel like there is nothing to photograph. That said, one of my guiding philosophies is to focus on small moments that bring joy: a meyer lemon, a good bagel, seeing the first sliver of a new moon, the chill of evening air. These moments are small, but they are the present moments of the everyday that counteract our obsession with always looking forward, the trivial attempt to figure out the arch of our lives, which more often than not remains unknown until we live through it.

So this week, every time I left the house, I slung my camera across my torso to bring it along wherever I went. This roll of film includes the morning bagel that became a Monday morning tradition, keeping us company during the last year of pandemic, scenes from evening walks along the beach, and the one day of snow fall here in Port Townsend. Many of the photos are out of focus, many are unremarkable, but like with my first roll I am still in awe of the color, texture and depth of film.

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ROLL #3

Back To The Boats

I found winter in Port Townsend temperate, especially after recently living through winter in Northern Norway, and while the nearby Olympic mountains were dusted with a beautiful layer of white, snow graced the town only once: a storm that began the night before, giving the gift of waking up to an exciting blanket of snow covering everything. On this snow day I grabbed my camera, loaded a new roll of film, and drove back to the Boat Haven. I hoped that with the blanket of white, snow bearing clouds in the sky and the layer of white snow on the ground, the colorful boats might look as if they were on a backdrop.

I walked around the boats in gentle flurries of snow flakes, fingers freezing from contact with the metal camera, but ended up with a few photographs that I really like.

the end

roll #4

somewhere in seattle

Come to think of it, I’m not sure where it comes from exactly. I’ve always assumed walking was a relic of my mothers childhood in the Northern Irish countryside, where she walked often as a girl, along the narrow lanes, hedge rows and deliciously green fields dotted with cows, sheep and potatoes. But I think walking is is also the mark of a traveler, accustom to aimlessly exploring new places by foot. When I was traveling and had arrived in a new place, the first thing I did was go for a walk, long or short, to stretch out after a long overnight bus ride and to orient myself. Wherever my mother’s practice of walking comes from, it was a habit passed onto me, forced upon me when I was younger and now a cherished pastime.

Since moving to Seattle, walking has bookended most days, with my camera and a fresh roll of film keeping me company as I wonder along. I live in Ballard, an area home to industries, lumber and fishing, harbors filled with boats, and various workshops. Here are some photographs from an evening stroll back in March.

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Roll #5

Somewhere In Seattle Part II

Another roll of film that kept me company on evening walks, I should probably make some friends but until then my camera is a trusty companion. I have found that the places of industry along the waterfront lend themselves to making interesting photographs, especially when the light turns golden and casts beautiful shadows softening the concrete, steel and grit.

While I like a few of these photographs and was working on taking more time to triple check the focus, this roll left me missing people. It is super intimidating to take photos of strangers, I worry that having their photo taken will upset them or feel intrusive but asking permission can change things, people pose. Anyways, moving forward I am going to try to challenge myself to seek out some people to photograph, wish me luck.

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Roll #6

Loowit & Tahoma

Since getting into film, I was eagerly awaiting an opportunity to take pictures in the mountains. I finally got the chance when my dad suggested a two day climbing trip to Loowit, followed by a third day visiting Tahoma. I loaded a roll of Portra 400 into my camera, stuffed two extra rolls in the belt pocket of my pack and held my breath, hoping for the best but keeping my expectations low in case every image was completely blown out.

Getting these pictures back was encouraging, and they turned out better than I could have imagined, but I continue to struggle with a sense of agency when it comes to taking pictures.

Yes, I spend a few moments thinking and planning composition, sometimes it doesn’t work how I want and so I skip the picture all together, but ultimately I just put the film in, set the ISO as instructed by the type of film, and use the program setting. I need to better understand the innards of the camera, the mechanisms at play, figure out what exactly is an “F stop”, and then perhaps I will feel more a part of the process, though that won’t shake my feeling unsure if the photos are any good. And then I tell myself, “it doesn’t matter if they are good, do you like them?” I do.

Full Story Of Loowit

Full Story Of Tahoma

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ROLL #7

Around Port Townsend

While living in Port Townsend I was at the Goodwill and found a Canon AF35M analog camera: black, plastic, very square, and most definitely from the 80s, the ideal care-free film camera. I was curious to see the difference in photos taken with this Canon and my more precious Canon AE-1 Program.

All was well until half way through the roll of film when the shutter began to stick. It would stick and stay stuck until days later when it would finally release. But because I had little hope for the pictures on this role of film, it presented the opportunity to develop it myself. I recently bought all the bits and bobs for developing film, and after stalling for a few days, got up the courage to give developing color film a go. This is the result.

North Beach:

Ruby Beach:

Mt. Townsend:

Shutter Troubles Gone Abstract:

Sunset:

Boat Haven:

the end.

Roll #8

Scenes from Port Townsend

My oldest sister, brother in law, and their two dogs drove from Michigan to visit us for a week. We lounged on the Fort Warden Beach in Port Townsend in the afternoon and I admired everyone’s beach-set-up. I am very shy about photographing people, moreover, the idea of being caught photographing someone who is then very unhappy with me. So I have been trying to push myself to take pictures regardless, and accept that if someone takes issue with it I will navigate it with as much grace as I can muster.

The rest of the roll is from the finish line of a multi-day sailing race, up and down the Sound. Not only do I hope to nurture photography, specifically film photography, in the coming years but I also hope to stretch my sailing and paddling wings. There is a human-powered race held every summer from Port Townsend, through the inside passage, to Ketchikan, Alaska. I would really like to do that.

The Washington 360˚ Finish Line:

Roll #9

Silver Lake Part One

The last time I went to pick up some film, I challenged myself to branch away from the trusty Portra 400 and try something new. I went for a roll of Ektar 100 but it didn’t turn out very well. At first glance everything seemed out of focus, blurred together with zero contrast, and the colors were not crisp or vibrant. It was a huge disappointment, and a humble reminder that I am a novice.

When I was in school and received a bad grade on a test I would shove the paper into my binder and never look at it again. The opposite of what you are supposed to do, I know, one should look it over, taking note of all that went wrong and do better next time, a blatant example of learning from ones mistakes, but I wouldn’t practice this until University.

My instinct was to bury this roll of film away and never look at the photographs again. Instead, I brushed up on some technical aspects of taking pictures to assess what went wrong, and then played around in Lightroom to try and salvage them. Turning everything into black and while took out the harsh lighting and strange colors, and now they don’t feel like a total waste.

Full Story

*the final photograph on the roll of Ektar 100 finally displayed the epic color that the film is renowned for.

Roll #9

Silver Lake Part Two

Luckily the second roll of film I had brought along to Silver Lake was Portra 400, a film adored by amateurs like me for its generous room for error. I saved this second roll for later in the day when I hiked beyond the lake to a saddle. I waited patiently for the light to shift into that golden evening spectrum and then made my move.

My favorite photographs from this batch are the pair at the end: my mom sleeping and the moon rising over one of the peaks, the one I had scurried up. Special thanks to my mom for going with me.

Full Story

Roll #10

Goat Lake To North Petunia peak

Something I’ve been thinking about lately is the sport of photography. There is the art: the composition, the light, the colors, the curating, the taking of. But then there is the sport: the travel, the journey, the trek, the climb, the making of. Behind every photograph is a human who has gotten themselves to that place or that moment or in front of that subject, to take that photograph.

Obvious, I know, yet mulling this over has helped me to understand why photography is my medium of choice; it combines my desire to be moving, exploring, seeing with documenting and story telling. Even better, this has made me feel more of an agent in my photo making.

As an amateur I am still learning the art form, I leave my camera in program and let the automatic settings do the work. I do not fully understand all the manual components, especially on the fly, and therefore, my agency is lessoned by what remains unknown to me. Even if I like a photograph I take, sometimes I am left thinking, well I just held the camera and pressed a button.

However, understanding that half of a photograph is the act of putting ones self in a place where a good photograph my occur helps me to feel the tiniest bit more involved in the process of making a photograph. My technical knowledge of photography is limited, but when it comes to the sport, I am tough, unassumingly so, as told to me by the woman who accompanied me on the two day hike documented on this roll of film.