Well, it’s happened. I appear to be feeling the call to digital. Heaven help us all.
After many years devoted to the calm, contemplative world of film and more so the wonderfully simple pinhole photography — my digital camera has mostly been gathering dust. I’ve only touched it once (maybe) in the last five years, and that was to test out a digital pinhole “lens,” which, frankly, was about as exciting as....well nothing really.
My poor Fuji X-T1 has not aged gracefully. The batteries gave up years ago, the shutter button seized solid, and it could only be operated via remote. In a fit of optimism, I decided to douse the shutter button with lubricant in the hope of dislodging the salt water corrosion. Miraculously, it worked — briefly — before the lubricant found its way into the electronics and the whole thing started behaving like it was possessed. Menus flickering, buttons refusing to cooperate... the full poltergeist experience.
So, naturally, I shoved it back in a drawer and pretended it wasn’t my problem.
Lately, though, I’ve been in a bit of a creative slump. Call it a “block,” or just a mild existential wobble. Even picking up a camera started to feel like a chore. I’ve been redecorating the bathroom — a project I’ve been avoiding since roughly the Late Bronze Age — which has given me far too much time to think. (Never a good idea.) Somewhere between coats of paint, I found myself ordering new batteries for the Fuji.
Amazingly, it’s come back to life. The electronics have stopped their haunting, the shutter works, and I’ve even been — dare I say it — looking at new lenses. Cheap ones, mind you. Let’s not get carried away.
Ten years of pinhole photography has taught me that it’s not about sharpness, megapixels, or owning gear that sounds like a Bond gadget. It’s about the simple joy of making something. Getting outside. Seeing light in a new way. Therapy with a tripod.
So no, I haven’t abandoned film. I’ve simply… expanded my horizons.
A cautious step into the digital abyss.
A relapse, perhaps — but a dignified one.
We’ll see how long this digital fling lasts. Could be a week, could be forever. Either way, I’ll keep a roll of film nearby — just in case I come to my senses.
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