Love the smell of D-76 in the morning…

Just so I don’t lose any of you from the title, “D-76” is a chemical that real black-and-white film is developed in.

And if I didn’t lose even more of you after using a preposition at the end of a sentence, I have one more confession: Sadly, I didn’t develop anything you’re about to see. Alas… I miss it. But, Dury’s in Nashville did… and they’re a good 2nd to actually rocking that soup myself.

They say you should never have to explain stories. Its slows everything and bores the reader. Above is FAIL #1.

Alright, that’s done… moving along…

But, its summer…

…which means plenty of film time. Even though some of these, also, weren’t taken this summer. They’re old. Some VERY old… because I found a couple rolls in the bottom of my big black box o’ camera crap. And it also takes me forever to get somewhere to develop my silver films. (Its like $8 a roll in Arkansas. No, really!)

So, otherwise, I typically find my film a bit amusing at times. Especially when a extra-large bundle of film comes back from the lab:

Lots and lots o’ film. So, I start going through it… and along with the medium format stuff like…

…or being geeky and googly over things like this…

…where, between the Bronica glass and the medium format, fine-grain film, you can see tiny details on the back of the camera and display. Alas, not so good scanned on here… but the print is sexy.

Be aghast, I’m talking about film being sexy. For shame.

However, I find it increasingly amusing how my film seems to capture my sister. And there’s a lot of it. Its like a cross section – The Many Moods and Faces of Hailey.

I mean, its sort of like people taking pictures of their cat. “Oh, the cat is moving! Take a picture. Then, when he moves, take another one!” My sister seems to be that. The camera is sitting there all lonely…

…and so sometimes we get Pensive Hailey.

…or we get Lounging Slightly Amused Hailey…

…or Piano Playing Hailey (with special appearance by Violin Playing Holly – sold separately)…

…or even the ever-so-riveting Putting On The Backpack Hailey.

(Okay, so I’m sure you got the “faces” but if you look closely the light goes with the mood.)

How many of you scrolled back up? Yeah… mmhmmm…

“Oh, I get it now!”

Nevermind. Fail #2.

Moving on. The silly stuff isn’t over yet. You gotta get through that for the good, juicy stuff.

So, I also make photos of Back of Truck in Target Parking Lot Dog.

And random bathroom walls…

You might need to blow that one up a bit to appreciate it. Or not.

Okay, so, now that some of the prologue silly-ness is out, we can move on to more serious things. Like… concerts! Or, the sound check for concerts…

Above? She goes with this photo from that night. Quite a cute one in person.

Then there’s friends…

And then there’s…

…”What the mess!? Why you gotta throw something heavy like that after all this levity!?!”

She was fine. Just out of frame right the driver is leaning against the back of a police car being interviewed. She was wearing her seat belt.

Wear your seat belts, children.

And take your camera everywhere.

“f/8 and be there.”

Journalism – and specifically photojournalism – has a future. And photos like the one above is an example.

Photos tell stories in ways that no amount of words can.

For example: meet Sam.

Sam loves birds.

You can write a million words about Sam and how much she likes birds.

But Sam is deeper than birds. Sam took a dare while filling up at a random gas station. So did Penny and Blake. Penny must eat Spam; Sam must eat sardines; Blake must eat vienna sausages (which, I don’t think are all that bad). I would like anyone to attempt to write such an experience. Three people. Three different reactions.

Before:

After:

To my mind, words do little justice to life. We really are visual, actual people.

Because it doesn’t end there.

Sam kept eating sardines.

You’re eating raw fish, Sam.

So, I say all that mess to continue with what I said originally: a photo can be far more than just a picture.

It can be the memory of a person.

Or proof that they or I ever existed right there at that 1/60th or 1/500th or other fraction of a second.

Joe McNally wrote on his blog a while back:

“Speaking of folks, I saw something on Kauai that really stuck with me. We were at the blowhole (no, not the U. S. Senate) but the Spouting Horn, right on the shoreline, where onrushing wave action sluices through rock formations and spouts 20 or 30 feet in the air. They have a fenced off observation point and I was up there, just doing my usual lazy a– thing. Spouting water! Cool. There it goes again. Where do we eat?

An elderly couple shuffled up the path, and I mean shuffled. These folks were ancient. Had probably been together 60 or so years. He had a cane, she used a walker. They were both stooped and bent–a pair of walking S curves. They got up to to the fence and looked out, enjoying the day and the late light.

Next thing I know, the gentleman moved away from the fence and held up a cell phone camera, beckoning his wife to look his way. She turned, positively beaming. She had one of those sun hats on, the kind you tie around your neck with a big, old fashioned ribbon. She was beautiful. He shot a couple of those “my honey at the shore” shots. They came together for a brief hug. Then they shuffled off.

I didn’t shoot. It was their moment, not mine. Two things ran through my head as I smiled both inwardly and outwardly. First was how much I missed Annie.

Second came to me as I watched them make their way, very slowly, in the sunset light. They were so frail the sun could have been shining right through them. And they were gone. And soon, they really will be gone, most likely. But they were here. Duly noted with a cell phone camera, an instrument much younger than they are. That snap might have been circulated already to dozens of grand kids and great grand kids, and might be saved, you know, forever. That last trip grandma and grandpa took to the islands. Remember that picture when she looked so pretty? By the shore?

Our pictures are our footprints. It’s the best way to tell people we were here.”

Substitute your own profession on that last line. “Our writings are our footprints.” “Our paintings/videos/radio spots/ads/press releases are our footprints.” We’re doing tangible things. Things that mean something.

You and me? We aren’t just here to take up space.

And I don’t mean to be melodramatic when I say I take my job seriously. I think anyone who does a job and genuinely feels like they are doing something beneficial (or at least, not harm) they are doing something noble and worthwhile. Both things that merit remembering.

And sometimes that’s the beauty of it. Even when you’re doing something you think is pointless. When you’re writing yet another pointless news release. When you’re filling in that 1,000,000th tax form for your accounting firm. When you’re doing something even you know nobody will ever see. Even when I’m taking silly random photos of nothingness…

…someday it might mean something. Someday it might just make a difference. Someday it might become something beautiful.

And if it doesn’t, what is the harm? What is really lost? Its just cellophane and silver (the material some film is made of). Or even a few ones and zeros on a harddrive somewhere?

Its good to remember things. And its good to be remembered. People who mean a lot to you. People who have influenced you. And sometimes you just think back fondly, “Oh, yeah! I remember when that happened!” Sometimes you think of a bad experience and say, “Wow, I learned so much from that.”

So, I’m thinking I’ve worn out a lot of internet connections with the amount of photos in this one… but, if you’re still with me here, here’s a few more as parting shots.

A few favorites, as it were, that I would rather just shut up and have you see.

Stay tuned, my friends.

(Above photos related to this post.)

(Above related to this post.)

Everything you’ve seen here, by the way, was taken on real film, completely unedited, uncropped, and unmolested. The color change of some photos is because I was using a different film type.

Soon,

-Noah D.