In a world drowning in megapixels, instant previews, and AI-assisted perfection, it might sound a bit mad, or at least stubbornly romantic, that I’m still out here cranking a 35mm camera and fumbling with film canisters. And no, I don’t mean occasionally—I mean still. I happily shoot roll after roll, drag them down to the lab (okay, sometimes I soup them at home), and patiently wait to see what surprises develop out of that little light-sealed canister. I even still use manual focus. Yep, I relish the gentle click and whirr of mechanical gears far more than any digital beep or autofocus whiz. But why?
Why stick to this “archaic” art form in 2025? Let me try to explain.
The Artistry of the Unknown
Shooting film, especially 35mm, is about surrendering to the unknown. Every roll is a tiny adventure, and every frame has an element of suspense. With film, you never truly know what you captured until you see the processed negatives—sometimes days or even weeks later. Was your exposure spot-on? Did that happy accident of a light leak create a dreamy, unexpected flare? Digital photos are all about certainty; film is about the possibility—embracing the fact that mistakes aren’t just OK, they’re often the best part.
Celebrating Mistakes: Light Leaks, Scratches, and Serendipity
Film photography is a celebration of flaws. That streak of red from a stray bit of light that snuck into the camera? Gorgeous. A little blur from missed focus or shaky hands? Sometimes that’s the soul of the image. Unlike the sterile, pin-sharp perfection of digital, film rewards you for being a little messy, a little reckless, even a little careless. It’s the grain, the texture, the odd scratch or chemical streak—the parts Photoshop tries so hard to fake, I get straight from the real thing.
Control… and the Magic of No Control
Sure, with manual focus and a fully mechanical camera, I get full control over every shot. No software choosing my settings, no autofocus robbing me of intention. But just when I think I’m in charge, film reminds me I’m not. The process—unpredictable and tactile—forces me to slow down, to think and see rather than just snap. But the medium also takes over: chemicals misbehave, frames get double-exposed, results will always surprise. The dance of control and chaos is what keeps me inspired.
The Feel—Grain, Texture, and Hands-on Creation
There’s something sacred about holding a strip of negatives, seeing the tiny, translucent versions of your memories. The grain and texture of film are unique—imperfect and organic in a way digital can never be. It’s tactile, tangible, real. And yes, sometimes I scan those negatives and throw them into Photoshop—maybe healing a dust spot, maybe pushing the contrast, maybe going wild with edits. That post-production is part of the fun too: blending old and new, digital and analog, intent and imperfection.
Why I’ll Never Stop
At the end of the day, it’s about making images that feel alive, not just look polished. Shooting 35mm is equal parts art, adventure, meditation, and beautiful frustration. Will I ever go fully digital? Probably not. Will I ever give up the joy of manual focus, mystery, and emulsion under my fingernails? Absolutely never.
So if you see someone squinting through a tiny rangefinder, cheerfully missing the focus by a mile, know this: some of us are out here making mistakes on purpose. And loving every moment.
