mystery

Considering the last photo I left you with, I'm sure you understand my blogging hiatus. Just a few things going on over here most days. The usual.

But for some reason, I decided to add to my madness and shoot a few rolls of film with an old 1986 Minolta a friends parents found for me. I have been reading about film for a while and following others as they jumped on the train venturing away from digital photography for a bit, but realizing how different the two really were had me baffled and instantly intrigued. I have NO intention of giving up digital photography at all. I love it. The idea of taking a challenge on like this is strange and exciting at the same time. I don't plan to use it during my sessions really, except to practice here and there, but see it as just some "continuing education", if you will. Learning to manual focus - because I have to with the Minolta - and learn to nail exposures rather than relying on Photoshop and Bridge to fix things after the fact can be nothing but good, right? 

Well I got my first scans back today. TechLab photo (in Belvedere Square) really did a good job and were extremely helpful so I can't blame it on bad scans really. But there are only a few that I would even think of sharing. What I strive to learn is what I have learned with digital; learn the camera, know your settings, and feel the moment during the session. I always feel the emotions during my sessions, even when I'm just taking shots of Sam I'm feeling the emotions of whats going on. During a newborn session I find myself calm and quiet soaking up the little things. When I'm shooting a 6 month old, I'm usually laughing, because the faces are hysterical. I'm rolling all over the floor, because they are too. I'm silly with older kids, making silly faces, asking silly questions or making fun at myself. With this first roll, I was trying to put the pieces of things I have read about exposure and light metering and underrating and overrating and all that new film stuff together that I was missing the emotion in most of my shots. 

 

At first glance, I was thinking, "Oh crap, these are awful." Exposure is all over the place, focus is off, great. I tell myself it's ok, I'll go back and read through the books and keep better track of my settings for my next roll and I'll figure it out. Maybe. But mostly, I was just bummed.

When I opened the back of the camera to put my first roll in, there was a roll in there already. I laughed thinking there was probably something crazy on there and if I developed it the lab tech would definitely give me a raised eyebrow. I went ahead and got it processed anyway, taking my chances.

So I went to the next set of scans from the mystery roll. There were only 6 photos on the roll of 24. And they all look like this:

My first thought was that I wished I knew who took these shots so I could send the negatives to them. And then I found myself just staring at them. Sure I've seen beautiful sunsets over the water. But what these shots by some mystery photographer did to me was exactly what I needed.

I used to take photos of the clouds after losing Henry. Whenever I would look up at the sky and see a cloud - not just any cloud, but those big, deep, substantial ones - I would swear it was Henry. And without fail, seeing them would bring a smile to my face and peace to my mind and heart almost instantly. Thats the feeling these mysterious photos gave me. It was whats missing right now in my chaotic life. . . that feeling of peace is so rare because I am ignoring it. I'm "too busy" to look at the clouds. I would probably trip and break my ankle if I looked at the clouds because I'm usually walking, pushing the stroller, carrying packages to the post office, trying to read or send an email on my phone, all while chewing gum. I know life will always be crazy, but only as crazy as I let it get. There will ALWAYS be time to just stop and look up and let that smile come as the calm sinks in through my pores. I need there to be enough time for that. For me.

It was the perfect time for these random photos. They reminded me of when I first jumped feet first into my camera after Henry. Here I find myself once again a beginner, green, and unsure of myself. And there popped my Henry cloud. Not in the sky, but on my computer screen. As if he found some way to come to me. Since too often my computer screen is what takes up my time that I'm alone, there he found me. And I'm smiling.