I had a few rolls of used film at home that were probably about 2 years old just sitting around. Moved a few addresses with me and all.
(mind you, I don’t think these photos are the peak of creativity, but that’s also not the point of this)
They made me think about the weight of things. Legacy. Wonder.
Those films had a kind of mystery that only scarcity allows really. 36 frames and somehow what’s in there felt worth spending a frame on.
They reminded me how much of life doesn’t feel like that anymore. We are instant now. Shot. Shared. Scrolled. No time to ripen.
I think waiting gives things a chance to change. How beautiful is it that the person that took the photo is not exactly the same when you see it, that you are not just seeing the thing in front of you. You are also seeing yourself.
The moments inside those films met me as a stranger. That’s the gift of time, letting you get back to things with new eyes.
The version of me who took those photos had different ideas, different worries, different aspirations. She might have missed things I can see instantly now, but she also loved things I have to work to remember loving.
In a world where almost everything is instant there’s something rare about having a part of your life you haven’t seen yet, not only in forgotten rolls of film but in the days ahead. And its easy to forget things in the future need to ferment too, that it takes time for certain things to ripen enough for us to meet them.
I guess my point in all of this is some things need the dark to take shape. Some things need distance to be understood. The unseen parts of your life are still working on you.
You do not have to name them before they are ready. When they are, you will see what they have become and what you have become alongside them.
If you have your own reflections or things to add, please leave a comment <3