I miss the darkroom. The smells, the light (or lack of) and the moment I would see an image come to life. For the past several years, I wondered why my interest in photography shifted, transformed…even, dissolved. Walking today I realize my passion was not only capturing the shot, but revealing, cutting and producing the image I wanted to see. The thought of using and disposing photographic chemicals (albeit my nostalgic notion of smell) makes my environmental heart skip a beat. More so than my environmental hesitations is the hesitation to give my film to another person to do the process I so long to do. That notion is the reason I switched to digital; however, Photoshop is still not the same as a darkroom. I miss spending HOURS in the darkroom, listening to music and producing the images I wanted to create. Sigh…this is a recent photo I shot on Easter.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Dark Memories
I miss the darkroom. The smells, the light (or lack of) and the moment I would see an image come to life. For the past several years, I wondered why my interest in photography shifted, transformed…even, dissolved. Walking today I realize my passion was not only capturing the shot, but revealing, cutting and producing the image I wanted to see. The thought of using and disposing photographic chemicals (albeit my nostalgic notion of smell) makes my environmental heart skip a beat. More so than my environmental hesitations is the hesitation to give my film to another person to do the process I so long to do. That notion is the reason I switched to digital; however, Photoshop is still not the same as a darkroom. I miss spending HOURS in the darkroom, listening to music and producing the images I wanted to create. Sigh…this is a recent photo I shot on Easter.
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