I still shoot film, although not nearly as often as I should. Like so many of my photographer friends, I have an entire shelf of my refrigerator dedicated to my collection of film stock. On those weeks when I’m spending more time answering emails and phone calls than shooting, or when the thrilling prospect of taxes is rearing its head; that’s when I feel the urge to pick up one of my manual cameras and go for a walk. I accumulate mystery rolls of film, and don’t get down to Photoworks very often to drop off the results for processing. But when I do, it’s always a delight to see the results.
All images shot in San Francisco on Kodak Portra (don’t recall the ISO, probably 400), with a Canon AE-1 50mm 1.4.
I scored big time at the Alameda Flea market a few weeks back, picked up another Canon AE-1 and a mint condition Argus C3. Currently doing film tests with both cameras to see which one I will take along on our upcoming trip – we’re going to Prague!
Laughingsquid.com just posted this Kodak documentary from 1958 on how film is made. Very timely as I’ve been shooting more film. I tested out the new/old camera on a weekend shoot and am going to drop off a bunch of rolls of film to be processed in the next few days. Now I just need to get that black and white darkroom set up in the garage…
A friend of mine just gave me this camera and I’m unreasonably excited. It belonged to his grandfather and was just gathering dust – such a shame. My first camera ever was my father’s old Canon AE-1, which tragically went missing during one of my many apartment moves of the last fourteen years. It’s astounding to think that I’ve lived in San Francisco that long, and moved over eleven times…
I’ll be test driving this thing out over the next week, but I’m not too worried. These old cameras are built like tanks. Can’t wait to use this on some upcoming gigs, including a wedding in a few months.
Issac, if you’re reading this, you’re one heck of a good friend!
So much for warmer weather. It’s been gross, cold and rainy the last few days. Good to know we still have time to sneak off to Tahoe sometime this season, but we’re having all kinds of motivational…. issues today. Ok, it’s just me who’s having issues. David has been very productive.
Pi Cat ponders the need for another nap.
We thought that ordering the new sofas in grey would cut down on the cat hair issues.
Boy, were we ever wrong about that.
Sad droopy tulip. Exhibit A – why all photographers need a live-in stylist.
Mo has a wicked tribute tat to one of the best films ever made. They’re also a very talented photographer, and one of my many friends brave and tough enough to be doing the AIDS Lifecycle!
What’s your favorite sci-fi film? I’m partial to 2001 myself.
Artist credit for the fantastic ink goes to Marc Cano.
Big thanks to the folks at i09 for sharing this entry on their blog, where a few people noticed that the quote isn’t entirely accurate to the film. Mo wrote in with the full story behind the piece, and I decided to post it here by way of explanation –
As the owner of this tattoo, let me explain. I chose not to change the quote to more accurately match the movie because the tattoo isn’t about honoring the movie, it’s about honoring my dad.
My father was a solider in the US Army. He fought in Korea and Vietnam, and as part of the Corps of Engineers he built roads and infrastructure in Saudi Arabia, Afghanistan, and Latin America. By the time he retired, he was decorated with the National Defense Service Medal, Army Commendation Medal, Vietnam Service Medal, Vietnam Campaign Medal, Vietnam Cross of Gallantry, Humanitarian Service Medal, Meritorious Service Medal, Army Service Ribbon, Air Medal, and two Bronze Stars.
His life was incredible. He saw so much in his lifetime that I can’t even begin to imagine. He was often telling stories, and we were always pressuring him to write them down. He began to write some memories down about 4 years before he died, but didn’t get far. They’re mainly quick sketches that outline adventures. His memoirs are beautiful, but fragmented. I wish he had been able to finish them, or that he had told me the stories in person.
His pages of fragmented memories begin with this paragraph:
“At the end of the movie Blade Runner, the replicant as he is dying, makes this last commentary. It reminds me of the admonition not to go into that dark night gently. The creature from another planet at the very end observed that all these memories will be lost in time like tears in rain. My recollections are those separate from tales told by others easily accepted as true memories. Hopefully, I have been able to make that distinction.”
My dad died on February 2nd, 2009. I had this quote tattooed on my arm 4 days after he died. He had the same tattoo, on the same arm- He got it at age 70 at a small biker shop in Colorado. His artist did it freehand. Although I’ll never be able to hear all of his stories, this tattoo allows me to have him with me always, and to remember how fantastic his life was.