there are
few things
that can be
either
so wonderful
or
so painful
then developing
a roll of film.
. . .
i remember
my first
camera.
i received
it on
my birthday-
when
i was in 4th grade.
a polaroid 600.
instant love.
my brother,
who has
the most
beautiful
handwriting,
wrote
in careful
b l o c k
letters
my name
down the
back side
{when you
are from
a big family
you always
write your name
on things
that you love}.
he used
one of those
highlighter pens
that
were really
popular in
the 80s-
they
wrote in
silver
with a tiny outline
of color
and
they soaked
through
the page
a bit or
would leave
a little
silver puddle
if you
held them
pressed against
the page.
when i was
18
i graduated
to
the SLR camera.
the canon AE-I.
my boyfriend
bought it
for me before
i left to europe.
this is when
i learned
about
the great joy
of dropping
film off
and
the excitement
of picking it up
to see your
travels
all over again.
moments
that
you had forgotten.
after college,
i moved
back to seattle
and
took
my first
photo class.
this is when
i learned
about the
great disappointment
of
photography.
when you
try
so very
hard
to take
those photos
you see in
your head
and
then
after
picking
them up
and opening
the flap
of the
envelope
you see
crappy photo
after
crappy photo.
that feeling
at the
pit
of your stomach.
a great
disappointment.
today
afer picking
up
my last 2 rolls
of 120 film
i took
in nyc
this weekend,
i waited until
i was on the metro
to open
the envelope.
i was
crushed.
these
were
the only
three
that
i could salvage
that
were
okay.
sigh.
xo
