2 min read





1 // Medlands beach, great barrier island

2 // sun & shadows on the deck of our beach house. Medlands beach, great barrier island


there’s something beautiful and indescribable about the way the tangible feels – the small shiver of delight each time i’m loading a roll of film into a camera, the anticipation of getting it back when it has been developed.

and i can’t logically explain the great expanse that exists for me between film & digital – i just know that they are incomparable. neither better or worse than the other, just…. different.

film is unpredictable, temperamental, open to quirks and strange anomalies – all things i find incredibly appealing. like drawing a prize from a lucky dip bucket and being excited by the prospect of what’s inside. film feels quieter, and less showy; it demands a slower pace (especially here on the island, where they only turn the machine on when they have enough orders – so it can be a week or two before i get the developed rolls back). and even with all the slowing down and consideration before making each image, there’s mistakes, tragedies, frustrations, framing – or focusing – gone horribly wrong, double-ups and accidents.

and there’s also the unexpected surprises… things that turned out way better than i imagined they would be. like gifts from the past, stored up to be opened one by one as i scan each frame. the trivial becomes treasure, the mundane infused with magic. dust and scratches a part of the topography of each artefact.

it is an inexplicable love affair, an expensive and time-consuming pastime, a map with no directions.