Paris, the City of Light. It is here that I have rekindled an old flame with analogue photography. Who knew that all it take would be walking through the doors of the Paris Lomo Gallery Store. Plastic analogue goodness was plastered everywhere. Lomography film cameras and actual film displayed across the store in vintage suitcases with vinyl records playing in the background (the Saturday visit featured ‘Georgia’ playing on the old ’78.) I was overcome with memories of dkARTS and Lomo themed events and quickly began to remember how I never left home without my LC-A or home grown Holga Mod. Wow, it was an awesome experience and what better place revel in it then Paris, France. The City of Love, the birthplace of photography.
Diana F+ was welcomed with open arms as we toured the streets and saw the sights. It has been a memorable experience. The El Torro model hanging from my neck. The click, click, click of the film advance. And the solid Shwap! of the shutter release button. A symphony of sounds as I moved through the roll of film at 1/60 of a second. Then came the fateful moment when I dropped off that first roll of 120 film. I thought of a conversation AT and I had about the digital vs. film conundrum. AT brought up a point that I often think back on…the idea of every shot made with film being the image you envisioned up until the point of processing…and with digital, you shoot and there you have it; dreams dashed upon the White Cliffs of Dover. So I found myself living the point AT was making. Those 16 frames were perfect in my mind. Emily waving goodbye in the Charles DeGaulle Tunnel, the shot I snapped of a couple having post wedding photos done over the river Seine, the first set of bikes rushing by me at the Tour de France, the side of Notre Dame, the metro rushing into the station, the Eiffel Tower crowning the city of Paris and the 10 other images that I will keep in my head…but they were all there wrapped between paper and gelatin. I dropped the film off and went Geocaching. I returned a few minutes early and paced to and fro in front of the lab wondering if that roll of film would hold the scenes I remembered so well.
I walked through the doors and handed over the ticket. As the young lady moved from the counter to the lab I wanted to ask “So, was there anything on it?” but I held my breath. She came back through the doors with the envelope in hand. She didn’t seem distraught, it didn’t appear that she was about to crush my photo-psyche, she actually looked as if she was about to hand a roll of processed film, cd, and contact sheet to a customer. The envelope crossed the counter and as I opened the sleeve I saw my 16 visions. My 16 squares of freedom were all there. I paid the lab and jumped the next metro home. As the rails thumped by I gazed at negative images through fluorescent lit stations.
Since then I have dropped off another roll of traditional BW 120 at the Negatif lab and have just loaded Diana with a roll of 35mm color neg…oh Paris, I am off to create dreamscapes of your everyday reality.
Thank you Lomo…my feet are back on the ground.