35 mm Camera

I received a real-live 35mm camera for Christmas this year. I'm kind of a goof, and asked for the 35mm instead of a digital, so Mr. Saucy was very upset with me that he had found the EXACT thing that I asked for as my big surprise present, only to see my face fall as I realized it wasn't also digital, which was what I THOUGHT I was asking for.

But ... the truth is ...

I LOVE IT!! And I'm so happy for this little mistake, because it's even more perfect than I had thought it would be.

I LOVE taking REAL pictures. I love focusing on what I want to focus on. I love getting right up onto a leaf to get the detail of the veins in it, or getting the light to come through a twisting vine just right. I love clicking the shutter release and it actually TAKES the picture right then and there without having to wait for all it's automatic settings to figure out what it thinks I'm trying to take a picture of.

I've taken it all around the yard, playing with the focus and zoom, adjusting for the light, getting right up on a huge blob of sap oozing from a tree, getting beautiful shots of different plants, trees, and shadows, and making the kids stand perfectly still for minutes on end while I focus, then get them to both look straight ahead, stop fighting, quit trying to get the sun out of their faces so I can get a good shot.

After every picture each kid wanted to see. They still don't get it that they can't see the picture that I just took. This makes absolutely no sense to them what so ever. And to my horror, I realized I didn't know how to explain to my 6 year old how the guy at CVS was going to know how to color the picture. 

See, when I learned about photography, it was in the 1970's and my Daddy had a dark room in the basement. I would go down there with him, develop the film into negatives, then make contact prints, then we would pick out the pictures we wanted to print, then we'd use the projector and make them whatever size we wanted. 

I'd help pour the solutions, slowly and gently swish the developing chemicals, wait for the timers to tell us when they go into the next solution, sue the wooden tongs to move the paper from one tray to the next, slowly swishing in that one, then the next one. 

I'd see the image come to life on the page, watch it deepen and emerge from a blank page of white paper into a glossy black and white photo. We'd rinse it off, then hang it to dry.

I still remember the smell of each tray. I remember the way the photo paper felt when lifting it with the wooden tongs. I remember the slightly slimy, slick feeling when I got the solution on my fingers and Daddy made me rush to wash it off. 

I also remember that we kept the developing trays in a shallow shelf that was pretty close to eye level for me when I was 5 or 6, but counter height to adults. In that shallow, low shelf, I would reach in to get the trays out for Daddy, and there would be a few dozen cave crickets in there looking back at me. I never minded them. That's just a part of what was in the dark room.

I don't think I'm going to set up a dark room here at Awesome Central. I'm not even sure you can find the at home solutions anymore. I'm sure it would be a much bigger investment than I'm willing to jump into right now.

But man oh man ... 

I miss those smells and the time spent with Daddy and I miss watching the images come to life. 

Magic.