Snap it


If you think your iPhone app can do pretty much what this little gem can, then the this article is not for you. It’s for unsuspecting photography nerds who like photos more than cameras, but need cameras more than photos. Does it make sense? Then read on.

I’m not the greedy type, to be honest. Sure, I become fixated and obsessed on objects but not if I already have a similar object that gets the job done. That was my take on photography when I first started experimenting with my precious burgundy point-and-shoot Sony T200. It was small enough to fit in my bag on a daily basis, it was simple to use and met all of my needs. Until last year when I stumbled onto lomography entirely by a fortuitous accident. Then into my life, came the Diana.

With its unpredictable grainy view of life I was hooked: flash filters, multiple exposures, redscale films — I was hooked on a life of analogue and curious snapshots. I took photos more liberally and intently that I ever did with my digital camera and the result, no matter how far from my original intention, always surprised and fueled my fervor for film. Around the same time, I was given the Panasonic LX3, a great upgrade from my burgundy treasure and suddenly I was granted with choice — a dangerous thing.

It is around then that I started to appreciate the need for more than one camera: each one tells the story of the capture moment differently. Each camera is a new set of eyes with which to view the world, and I now find myself in the awkward situation of wanting more than my one set of eyes. Fellow photographers get this, everyone else thinks I’ve just wasted my money on another camera (insert condescending eye roll here). But hey, you can’t blame a girl for wanting to see the world in fresh ways, right?





Switch off


Today I’m not going to drink more than three cups of tea, no matter how much I convince myself that my throat hurts or I have that craving. I will drink more water and I will make a mental tally of the liters I down by night time. It will be close to the big two and I will feel a sense of achievement for doing something that should be part of my mundane routine anyway.

I will not spend hours getting tangled up in website links and referrals and e-mails and replies. I don’t have to update my facebook status or tweet that I’m drinking water for the day because it is not important. I will not open photoshop to edit any one of my candidate photos for flickr. I won’t even browse other photographs for inspiration and I most definitely will not log in on tumblr. All that inspiration and clicks can be downright distracting, especially if it leads me to etsy. I cannot allow myself to go on etsy, or any other online shop for that matter, because today of all days, there will be no window shopping. Even my metaphorical wallet is empty.

I will make the bed in the morning, and I will actually eat breakfast because it is the most important meal of the day I persistently choose to forget. I will call my mom to see how she is because I will remember to reach out across the telephone line that separates the measly distance between us. If I’m ambitious, I will also make the 10-minute drive to see my grandmother, who speaks in television language because that is all the company she has. I will make her day by sitting down next to her and listening to all the episodes I missed during the week. I will call my friends for a casual coffee drink of water and I will make the effort to be more than a Facebook friend.

Today, I will set aside time to read my book, even if I’ve forgotten its title from the time it’s been to hold it. I will not do this before I sleep because I want to read more than just a couple of sentences. I will write in my real journal, not my blog, about the thoughts in my mind, the things I most wish for, the quotidien that saturates my minutes. I will think of friends abroad and actually call them. Or better yet, I will sit down and write them a letter, not an e-mail. I will play songs I’ve forgotten about and I will sing along fearlessly. I will take a walk on the beach and I will write a poem. I will jot down my ideas on actual paper that is inside a thought notebook, not a post-it note.

Today, I’m changing everything. It all starts today.