This first shot is everything I fell in love with about film photography. I had an idea, a picture, a moment I wanted to capture. It had layers. There were questions about exposure, focus, framing that I barely even knew how to ask, let alone answer. The wait, between pushing the button and getting the pictures back some weeks later, was exhilarating. 

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And of course it's a mess. The subjects are muddy and out of focus, the image is under-exposed, it's confusing - but there is a picture there. There's a mood. Between my simple idea, a generous space, and some happy analogue accidents, there's a little magic there.

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It was the depths of covid, and analogue photography filled the void left by the loss of theatre-making. The watching, the musing, the waiting, the result. Trying to capture something human, and then seeing if and how you had. Clarifying intention. Blending spontaneity with aesthetic power.  Learning from every shot.

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I don't know what kind of photographer I am, or if I'm even one at all. The pictures here are grouped in themes that revealed themselves to me through shooting, and  they are snaps: moments that I've grabbed from the world around me, rather than projects or mindful pursuits. But I'm learning to use my tools, I'm learning a little craft, and my curiosity is leading me in more focused directions.

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Many of these shots were taken on an Olympus Pen FT half-frame camera. I did most of my early learning on a Rollei 35s. I've had a glorious tank of a Pentax KX available since 2022, but recently, and I suspect enduringly, I've been reaching for a Pentax SV.

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Contact me if you'd like an analogue portrait-shooting session.