Click for Analog Life

I spent my formative years traveling to some of the most remote country on earth, while ironically maintaining maximum brand and marketing contact with the mainland. Worrying about how the thing looked often removed me from the present state of experiencing the thing.

Exploring is a funny thing today; not grand adventure, but notifications and spectacle. I grew up on legends, the greatest of which were fortuitously inscribed into time-less novels such as The Oddyssey. Unbeknownst to me, with the online generation would die the inability to capture the living thing; expedition. Before us, it existed in the moment, tasted only by heroes, or fools – those brave or stupid enough to go at it themselves. We could be lost…

That is what I understood it to be when I set out for it. It was the remote wilderness that called, growling with danger. I would need to be alone – away from help, people, civilization. A beat drummed always, driving me to individualism, self-reliance, self-sufficiency so that I could be out there like the men of those tales. Who am I if I cannot survive alone, without anything?

Living the line of life that weaves from my first adventure through and through the height of calamity to now, exploring evolved into a different creature. The cart before the horse, the story before the adventure. The experience of aloneness blurred with the ever-present sense of a third-person perspective, conveying the manner in which one explores, and bringing a guest along. Thus, I found myself

I forgot about the photos.

The images above are from this camera, the Yashica Mat-124 G. It is a frustrating old piece of fine equipment, which requires intense focus for much longer than casually tolerable. I love it.

I have begun to take photos that have a story, and coincidentally I have thought about what now after all this adventure*. Thinking about taking the time to tell the story that weaves so wildly. Stay tuned, winter thaws…

*more always on the way, don’t worry about it