People often say shooting film is about nostalgia. The grain, the color, the feeling of holding something from the past…
But for me, it’s not really about that. It’s about slowing down.
Digital photography gave us endless possibilities. And of course, that’s awesome. Instant previews, unlimited shots, and the freedom to experiment without consequence. I love that. But somewhere along the way, the ease of shooting also made me less attentive. I started missing the little things. Just the way light falls on a window, the rhythm of footsteps, the silence between moments.
Film brought that awareness back.
When you only have 36 frames, every one of them matters. You look longer before pressing the shutter. You start to think: Is this worth a frame? That simple question changes how you see.
Waiting for the film to be developed feels like part of the photograph itself. It’s a reminder that not everything should be instant. And that anticipation has its own beauty.
Yes, film photography is expensive. It takes time. It’s imperfect.
But maybe that’s what makes it meaningful.
It reminds us that the harder something is to get, the more we value it.
Film photography isn’t about going back in time.
It’s about remembering how to see again.