I am not overly fond of housework. I love seeing the results, but getting there? Not so much. So I tend to procastinate. And frequently with a camera in hand.
This has resulted in a small housework photo series. There’s no unity to these images, and no intentional thought of making a series, but this selection at least works together as a whole – two black and white images and two polaroids.
In the near future there will be a more planned and intentional series on the same topic.
I’m still struggling with my Polaroid camera and the Impossible Project films. I’m on my second pack of film at the moment, and so far ALL the images I’ve shot from that pack are failures – highly frustrating, to say the least, and not to mention expensive! I’m not going to give up, though – there are so many examples out there to show that it IS possible to succeed with the IP film. This image, by Ron O’Connor, is one of them.
Isn’t this image just about perfect? I love the mood and atmosphere and lighting and everything about it. It’s taken at the National Museum of Natural History in Washington DC, and speaks to me of the scientific curiosity and exploration of the last two centuries, of the world as a big and glorious place, and of the circus in all its glory and melancholia.
Thanks to Ron for letting me feature this and for the encouragement to continue shooting Polaroids!
So, I have bought a new camera. And not any kind of camera either, but a proper vintage Polaroid 650. It is big and clunky, and a bit intimidating, and I love it to bits already.
I have entered into a whole new world. Suddenly – and disconcertingly – I have no clue about proper exposure settings (I have a whole of three to choose from here, which ought not to be a problem). Also, I’m using Impossible Project PX 680 First Flush film, which needs to be shielded from light for the first couple of seconds after emerging from the camera – easier said than done! It doesn’t help that the film is frightfully expensive.
That being said, I’m having so much fun! The unpredictability of it is fantastic, and watching the details of the image emerge is true magic, not least because it serves as an instant journey back to childhood and the memories of my late grandfather using a similar camera.
So far, I’ve used up five of the eight images on my first film. One was exposed to light when I stupidly removed the film canister after the darkslide was ejected – my camera is apparently a little slow on the trigger, so I wanted to check that the film was properly inserted. One image was ruined when I didn’t shield it properly. The three others appear to be more or less successfull.
This is the one I shot yesterday, and it’s obviously true that it takes a whole day for all the details to appear, because I was highly surprised to see how different this one looked this morning:
I’m not too keen on the yellow light, some of the details are blown out, and the composition and subject leave much to be desired, seeing that this was only meant to be a test snapshot. I still treasure it as the first step on this wonderful journey into a new world of photography.