Video vs Photos vs Words

Communicating is a complex thing. Talking is one thing. Dialogue is another. Writing and reading seem much the same; similar but different. You would think that video and photography would be the same sort of deal. Not yet, at least not for me. I've been taking photographs since I acquired my first little Instamatic that took 126 film cartridges, had no focus or shutter control. It was the epitome of a camera for the proletariat. 

Until I started writing this post, I never really knew how this camera came into my hands. As I went through my dad's old scanned files, I found a photo of him using it. Obviously pre-dates his using the Pentax 35mm which I think my mom gave him as their first anniversary present.  

image from ebay.com

My dad, on his honeymoon in 1971, using the Instamatic, that I would inherit 8 years later.

 

I started working in video when I was a teenager, eventually ending up working with Miami Springs TV production... while simultaneously working for researchers at Jackson Memorial Hospital Trauma Unit. I placed my video camera in its travel case in when I left for college, and never picked it up again. Once I lost the ability to edit analog video, shooting video became less interesting. Not dissimilar to how I felt when I was learning to type. If I couldn't correct my typing errors, it stopped being about writing, and became more about getting everything right. That's just not how I work. I make mistakes by the bucketful. Most of the time, I learn from them. Having to use Wite-Out (first) and then later on, correction tape just killed the creative process. 

Photography was a fantastic way for me to explore the world. My dad had a darkroom for developing black and white film and prints in our bathroom. His 35mm Pentax would become my first 35mm camera when I was about ten years old. 

When I first started working with 35mm film, figuring out exposure, without a light meter, nothing automatic on the camera... it was such a radical departure from using the Instamatic where everything was auto. Here's one of my early photos from that first roll of film out of the Pentax.

 Over time, and through more error than success, I figured out how exposure worked... often at the cost of ruining more rolls of film than I could afford. One of the thoughts I had while reflecting on these early days was how much more precious each image was. Something about the intentional nature of film... knowing that it might be weeks between finishing the roll and getting it back in the form of prints... knowing that there were 36 exposures to be had, and that it had to be worth it. That intention made for a different level of commitment, I feel. 

I often hear folks joke about fixing something "in post". I get that editing software (and AI in recent time)  have sold the idea of perfection through editing. I am not wholly convinced. I think capturing the image correctly the first time is important. I am in no way against editing images, in fact, I edit most of mine. But I don't want the edits to be more important than the subject of the image. 

Me and my brother David, taken by my aunt Beryl

 

 

I want to close this disjointed jumble of thoughts with a few photos my dad took back in the days when he and my mom sold paint at the local swap meet in Miami.