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Since I was the only one who had a lomo camera in the group, I did the lomowalk alone. An hour before we left for the airport, I took one last stroll along the beach.
LESSON LEARNED: the beach can over expose an ISO 100 film
I never think of myself as a water person. When people ask "Are you a beach person?" or "Are you a water person?" the more sardonic part of me wants to reply by informing them that the human body is about 60% water, so we are, in fact, all "water people", myself included — we literally cannot exist without it. Usually though, I respond by stating that, although I'm very fond of the ocean, for example, I'm only fond of it in the sense that I like knowing it's nearby. The thought is comforting somehow. But even though I quite like living close enough to the sea to look out at it, or breathe in the salt air, or listen to the waves lap at the shore at nights, I'm not really sure what to do with the ocean. I'm an animal of the inner city. I live amongst the power lines and alleyways and hole-in-the-wall cafes and bars; rooftop gardens and dirty gutters. I like looking for beauty in the decaying concrete jungle, and the only swimming I do seems to be in the mountains of work that pile up around me. Having said that, I'm also a traveler. If not by design then out of necessity. And looking back over my lomographs it's suddenly clear to me how much water I've crossed on my travels, and how much time I've spent on the sandy edges of continents — sipping cocktails while the sun goes down, or marvelling at bikini-clad beauties, or throwing frisbees, or spearing calamari. Once I had to drive speedboats for a children's tv show I was in. I wish I had some pictures of that... So what would I miss the most about water if it was suddenly and inexplicably taken away? That's an easy one: Life. And I don't mean existence — the two are different things. I don't just mean waking up in the morning, opening your eyes and breathing the air into your lungs — I mean living; diving headfirst into a crashing wave at Maroubra, feeling a bite on the end of your fishing line at Cape Leveque, watching the sun rise over Lake Michigan, cartwheeling down Huntington Beach. Water is life.
I used this film with my fisheye with submarine case. Unfortunately, my submarine had some water leaks and the salted seawater came inside the camera and the film... When I gave it to my usual lab, they told me they couldn't process it as the film was wet... :(
So I waited for a solution and let the film like that, unprocessed, in my room. After a month, I noticed that some strange signs of corrosion were to seen on the film canister, and thought that perhaps there was something interesting happening inside! But how could I process it???
And there I thought that this could interest Mr LabRat himself: Mandi! I wrote him and asked if he could process the film for me. And finally, almost 3 months after being shot, after a long maturation time and some special treatment to dry and process it, the pictures are here! Thanks a lot Mandi! ;)
so I decorated the camera and i made light leaks on accident, also bringing back some light writing because i love paul simon, i want these things to shine like a national guitar
