The Labor of Film

There were a number of things running through my head last night when I started to cut the rolls of film I developed a couple hours earlier. There's a real labor involved with committing to film that puts a higher personal value on those images compared to digital.

Curses!

To commit to an analogue/hybrid workflow requires a devotion of time, patience and energy. Much more so than plugging a memory card into a computer every once in a while. This has been a bit of a rough week at my day-job and I've been pretty brain dead by the time I get home, but last night I decided to develop a couple rolls of Tri-X (#400TX) anyway.

Development is pretty straight forward; put on some music, keep track of time, try not to spill anything etc, but it was a couple hours later when, on the verge of complete mental and physical exhaustion (mostly mental; this week has suuuuuucked), I remembered I still had to cut and archive my hanging film before passing out. I realized this process can be a real physical drain. And I like that.

For some, the actual price of a roll of film dictates whether or not a scene is worth photographing. For me, it's whether or not I want to go through the effort of dealing with that frame on the back-end of the capture process and whether or not I will find that frame worth it that dictates whether or not I click the shutter. When I soup this roll of film will my excitement and anticipation be rewarded with a worthwhile photo? "Will this frame be worth my time?.."

No? Move on. Maybe? Take the shot anyway and end up disappointed while developing/cutting/archiving/scanning it at the height of physical and metal exhaustion a few days later? That type of shot won't ever be taken again. That's why nothing beats a keeper.