A while ago I talked about my summer project – reliving my childhood holidays by carrying around a disposable camera to document the goings on in my life. A total nostalgia trip. And finally, here are the results…
They came out as perfectly as I’d hoped – perfectly flawed, that is. They are dark, blurred, corners obscured by clumsy fingers covering the lens.
What’s particularly warming for me is that every single photograph tells a story. Instead of taking twenty photos, and sticking a filter on the best one, there were lots of “say cheese!” moments, usually followed by fits of giggles. Knowing there was only one chance to take the shot made the actual taking of the photo into an experience in itself, something I feel is often lost now in our selfie era.
At one point I realised that my sister was holding the camera, and had just taken a photo of something. It was only when I had the film developed that I found out the picture had been of me – that was a bit of a surprise! Similarly, it was nice to revisit moments that I had forgotten I’d photographed.
An unprecedented success, I’ll certainly be doing this project again soon. I’m certain that it made me engage so much more with what I was taking a photo of, instead of obsessing about the perfect duck face, or the editing process. It’s authentic, and I love that.
Next stop – getting my hands on a Polaroid camera, perhaps?