What I’m Listening To: I currently love Nelly’s "Just A Dream." His sound on this record really reminds me of some of his earlier work.
What I’m Watching: I finally finished watching all seven season of Adam-12, what a great show! Now I’m getting caught up on How I Met Your Mother and Psych. I try not to watch a ton of TV, but with the weather getting colder, I have been.
What I’m Reading: I’ve been slowly reading a book called Blue Blood by Edward Conlon, I’ll finish it eventually.
What I’m Looking Forward To This Week: I’m just pretty happy that I’ve finally decorated my office.
Find of the Day: I was walking through Whole Foods today when I came across Matt’s Cookies out of Chicago. We used to sell these at Marsh back in the day and I think they’re so good! They’re soft and have real ingredients. Glorious!
Also, I’m pretty sure that these cookies are lactose-free, so you can give them to people who can’t have dairy products. Like I said, I found these at Whole Foods, although you might find them at other groceries in Indiana.
Quote of the Day: "Life’s challenges are not supposed to paralyze you, they’re supposed to help you discover who you are." – Bernice Johnson Reagon
The thing I miss most about film photography is time spent in the darkroom. I have to admit that when it came to darkroom technique, there were others in my class a lot more talented than I was, but I didn’t care.
I still remember rushing to get my film developed so I could jump into the revolving door to the darkroom and start printing my pictures. The darkroom was a great escape from the rush of the school day. We typically had a few amber safe-lights turned on so we could make our way around the darkroom and the music of choice came from the radio… either X-103 or the school’s radio station.
The darkroom was always fun for me because it was a place of discovery. Typically I had a vague picture in my mind of the pictures I had taken and the negatives helped reinforce that image in my mind… but it just wasn’t the same as seeing it on paper.
I’d take a negative out of the sleeve, hold it up to the safe-light to figure out which image I’d want to print, and then I’d place it in the enlarger. For those of you who don’t know, an enlarger is kind of like a projector. Except instead of projecting onto a wall, it would project the image onto an easel where the photographer would then place a piece of photo paper.
It was fun putting the negative in the enlarger, setting it to the appropriate size (4×6, 5×7, 8×10), and then using a focus finder to adjust the enlarger so that it was projecting a clear and crisp image. Perhaps the hardest part was finding the right exposure time. Photo paper is coated with chemicals that are made to react to light. As the negative is exposed to the photo paper, the photo paper reacts to the light. In order to get the right amount of brightness and contrast, the photographer has to adjust the timer that’s connected to the enlarger. Sometimes you only have to expose the negative to the photo paper for 4.5 seconds, other times it can take more or less.
The photographer never really knows how it’s going to turn out until they throw that sheet of photo paper into the developer tray which is typically one part developer chemicals and one part water. This is the coolest part of film photography because as the photograph is agitated in the developer tray, the photographer begins to see their picture appear in front of their eyes.
Sometimes the photographer will look at the image and realized that he or she didn’t expose it to enough light or may they shone the enlarger light on the paper for too long, creating a dark image.
Here’s a short video that shows you how a print is made in the darkroom:
Just watching that video makes me miss working in the darkroom. There’s just something about getting away from the world, even for a little while, to spend some time with photographs. I still miss just taking my time to print my pictures while listening to some sweet tunes.
Some of you may be wondering if I prefer film photography to digital. To be quite honest? I LOVE digital photography. Here are just some of the reasons:
I can change the the film speed without having to switch out film rolls. So for example, I can go from shooting outside at ISO 200 to shooting inside at ISO 800 with the click of a button. With a film camera, I would’ve had to have two rolls of film and/or two separate cameras.
I can see results instantly. This is an awesome advantage because I get a chance to proof my picture right on the spot and make adjustments to film speed and exposure times immediately. With film, I would’ve had to take several shots using several different settings, wasting precious room on my film roll.
I can switch between color and b&w. When I shoot with my digital camera, I always shoot in color knowing that I always make the image b&w later. With a film camera, I would’ve had to have been carrying a color roll of film and a b&w roll of film.
I can share my pictures quicker. With a film camera, I’d have to scan my images in and risk having dust spots and imperfections appear. With my digital camera, I shoot RAW which allows to me adjust several of the shot’s settings, just like I would if I were using a darkroom enlarger.
STORAGE! The only limit to my digital photography is the size of my memory card. With film photography, I had to carry several rolls of film for different speeds and colors. I’m also able to archive my digital photos so much easier. I have been tempted to use a service like Scan Cafe to digitize my negatives from high school and some of my Grandma’s photos.
Well friends, that’s all I have for you know. I hope the past couple of posts have shed some light on my love for film photography. Below are some pictures I took during my time at North Central, I hope you enjoy!
Can I just say that I miss old school photography?
As I sit and write this, I realize that I have grown up during the transition from film photography to digital photography. My senior year of high school was the last year we used the darkroom for the newspaper, magazine, and yearbook. It was replaced the next year by a negative scanner, which was quickly replaced by the digital camera.
Even with the benefits of the digital camera, I can’t help but reminisce about the "good ol’ days" of photography. I remember my first camera, it was my Dad’s Minolta XG-M 35 mm camera. It was a pretty decent camera and my Dad had three lenses: the one that came with it, a wide angle lens, and a telephoto zoom lens. I was very lucky to have it.
I remember my first photography class at North Central High School with Jenny. Even on our first day, she had us put a fresh roll of Ilford film in our cameras and took us outside to take pictures. Little did I know just how much photography would become a part of my life.
A lot of work goes into film photography. Back in high school I was rushed with deadlines for the school magazine and became pretty efficient at shooting a roll of film, developing the roll, and printing the pictures in a pretty efficient fashion. That was work. But what I loved were the times when I was able to take my time, really work on my photography, and come up with truly awesome images. I must also remind you that unlike today’s digital cameras which can store hundreds of images on a single memory card, I was limited by 24 or 36 frames, depending on the roll I was shooting.
Film photography truly is an art and a science. The shooting of pictures was the art, while the chemicals and timing was the science. I still remember room J201 where I had to take the time to mix chemicals: developer, stop bath, and fixer… just to name a few.
I was always excited to get my roll of film back to school and develop it, because unlike digital photography, I didn’t get to see instantaneously what the image looked like. Sometimes I’d wonder if I overexposed a shot, or didn’t have enough light. I’d throw the film canister, can opener, film reel, and a film developing tank into a changing bag and zip it up. For those of you who don’t know, a changing bag is a bag with sleeves so that the photographer can open the film canister, put it on a film reel, and seal it in the developer tank. This is all done in complete darkness so that the film isn’t exposed to light.
Developing the roll isn’t too special, it’s a process of pouring in chemicals that will develop the image on the negative, another chemical stops the developing process, and another chemical makes the image permanent.
This was always my favorite part because looking at the negatives, I had a pretty good idea of how my pictures turned out. If frames in the negative were too light, I could tell that I had underexposed and the image would be too dark. If frames in the negative were too dark, I knew that resulting image would be too light. The best way to find out if I shot a good roll would be to cut the film, put it in a negative sleeve, and take it into the darkroom. Once I did that, I could put the negatives against a sheet of photo paper, expose it to light for a few seconds, and have a contact sheet to look at. And that was when the fun was getting started…
My Grandma Hicks has been in the nursing home for a while now… at least five years, if not more. At first it was a little difficult to get used to, but we all knew it was for the best. My GrandDad still lives at home and goes to the nursing home almost every day and spends hours with Grandma.
I went to see them yesterday and even though my visit yesterday was short, I still had a good time. My Grandma was in good spirits and her memory was doing pretty good.
It may not mean much to most, but just hearing her say my name meant a lot to me. My mom usually asks, "does she remember who you are?" To be quite honest, it doesn’t bother me if she can’t make the connection that she’s talking to is me. Just being able to have a conversation, no matter how big or small, is more than enough.
Grandma’s time in the nursing home has also been good for me to see just how much my GrandDad loves her and takes care of her. I’d love to share with you just one small story.
Taming the Old Lady With Chocolate
My Grandma is what you would call ornery, or in laymen’s terms, "bull-headed." The nursing staff has realized this and learned that she can be bribed with chocolate. She wants chocolate and knows the only cure for her stubbornness is chocolate.
Well anyway, yesterday Grandma wanted chocolate. GrandDad was giving her a playfully hard time, "Janey, you’ve already had three pieces!"
"But I’m hungry!" she’d respond. I don’t know if my GrandDad wanted to give in or maybe he wanted entertainment, "I’ll tell you what Jane, you whistle and I’ll give you some chocolate."
Maybe you have to know my Grandma to get a laugh out of this, but I’ve never seen her give in so easily to one of my GrandDad’s demands (it’s part of being bull-headed, I guess). But sure enough, she was lying in bed and just started whistling. "Okay John, I can’t whistle anymore, give me chocolate!"
After fiddling with the wrapper, GrandDad handed her a piece of sugar free chocolate. Who knew women could be so easily bribed? Ha ha!
So there you have it, just one of my many interactions with Grandma. While life in the nursing home isn’t the same as it is in the "outside world," I always treasure these special little interactions I get to have with her.
It’s been a while since I’ve listened to some spoken word artists. While this piece you’re about to listen to isn’t strictly spoken word, it’s still pretty good. It’s like a poem wrapped up in a story, wrapped up in a song. Sage takes his rhymes and weaves them into a story that you can follow, all to the beat of some instrumentals.
Hope you enjoy!
The Best of Times
Sage Francis
It’s been a long and lonely trip but I’m glad that I took it because it was well worth it. I got to read a couple books and do some research before I reached my verdict. Never thought that I was perfect. Always thought that I had a purpose. Used to wonder if I’d live to see my first kiss.
The most difficult thing I ever did was recite my own words at a service realizing the person I was addressing probably wasn’t looking down from heaven. Or cooking up something in hell’s kitchen, trying to listen in or eaves drop from some another dimension. It was self serving just like this is.
Conveniently religious on Easter Sunday and on Christmas. The television went from being a babysitter to a mistress. Technology made it easy for us to stay in touch while keeping a distance, ’til we just stayed distant and never touched. Now all we do is text too much.
I don’t remember much from my youth. Maybe my memory is repressed. Or I just spent too much time wondering if I’d live to have sex. Fell in love for the first time in 4th grade but I didn’t have the courage to talk to her. In 8th grade I wrote her the note but I slipped it in someone else’s locker.
Considered killing myself cause of that. It was a big deal. It was a blown cover. It was over for me. My goose was cooked. Stick a fork it me. The jig is up. I blew my chances, the rest is history, our future was torn asunder. It became abundantly clear that I was only brought here to suffer.
At least I didn’t include my name. Thankfully I wrote the whole note in code and it had 10 layers of scotch tape safety seal making it impossible to open. Plus, it was set to self destruct. Whoever read it probably died laughing. I wonder if they lived long enough to realize what happened.
A year later, I came to understand that wasn’t love that I was feeling for her. I had someone else to obsess over. I was older. I was very mature. I forged my time signature while practicing my parents autograph cause I was failing math. Disconnected the phone when I thought the teacher would call my home.
I checked the mailbox twice a day at the end of a long dirt road. Steamed open a couple envelopes like I was in private detective mode. If you snoop around long enough for something in particular you’re guaranteed to find it. For better or worse that’s how I learned that it’s best to just keep some things private. It was the best of times. It was the end of times.
It was the best of times. It was the end of times. I was always on deck, I was next in line. An only child with a pen and pad writing a list of things that I could never have. The walls in my house were paper thin. Every squabble seemed to get deafening. If my memory serves me correctly I made it a point to void and forget some things. Probably to keep from being embarrassed. Never meant to upset or give grief to my parents. Kept my secrets hid my talents in my head, never under the mattress.
Therapy couldn’t break me. Never learned a word that would insure safety. So I spoke softly and I tip toed often. The door to my room was like a big old coffin. The way that it creeked when I closed it shut. Anxieties peaked when it opened up. As if everything that I was thinking would be exposed. I still sleep fully clothed. It was the best of times. It was the end of times.
It was beautiful. It was brutal. It was cruel. It was business as usual.
Heaven. It was hell. Used to wonder if I’d live to see 12.
When I did I figured that I was immortal. Loved to dance but couldn’t make it to the formal. Couldn’t bear watching my imaginary girlfriend bust a move with any other dudes.
Tone Loc was talking bout a Wild Thang but I was still caught up in some child thangs. Scared of a God who couldn’t spare the rod. It was clearly a brimstone and fire thang.
Pyromaniac. Kleptomaniac. Couldn’t explain my desire to steal that fire. Now I add it to my rider. Like Please oh please don’t throw me in that patch of brier! It was the best of times. It was the end of times.
The school counselor was clueless cause I never skipped classes. Perfect attendance. Imperfect accent. Speech impediment they could never really fix and I faked bad eyesight so I could wear glasses.
Considered doing something that would cripple me.I wanted a wheelchair. I wanted the sympathy. I wanted straight teeth so then came braces. 4 years of head gear helped me change faces. It was the best of times. It was the end of times.
Now I wonder if I’ll live to see marriage. Wonder if I’ll live long enough to have kids. Wonder if I’ll live to see my kids have kids. If I do I’m gonna tell em how it is.
Don’t listen when they tell you that these are your best years. Don’t let anybody protect your ears. It’s best that you hear what they don’t want you to hear. It’s better to have pressure from peers than not have peers. Beer won’t give you chest hair. Spicy food won’t make it curl. When you think you’ve got it all figured out and then your universe collapses trust me, kid it’s not the end of the world.
