These last couple of weeks have been an interesting transition, adjusting to life after everyone has gone back home to Minnesota. It was so awesome to have everyone here to celebrate our wedding with us; it felt even more like home and we’re forever grateful for their presence but sadly they had to head back to the states. I’ll see everyone at Christmas (cannot wait!!), but until then I need to focus on the here and now.
Though I miss my family and friends very much, I have to do my best to not dwell on that as it is no way to truly allow myself to bloom where I am planted. Instead I need to focus on this wonderful country I live in, this amazing man I get the pleasure of calling my husband, and all of the infinite possibilities in store for us together, as well as us as individuals.
Speaking of us individuals and the possibilities, below is a photo of a recent purchase I made that ties closely into my passion of photography. When I was a little girl my parents let me play around with their old (35mm) camera and eventually they bought me my very own Polaroid camera; from there my love for photography only grew. At one point I remember visiting the local library and seeing a book of Ansel Adams photographs; I knew then and there my life had to revolve around taking pictures, some way, somehow.
So here it is, a 1985ish Praktica MTL 50, 35mm camera. I bought it, along with four lenses and a flash, for £35 (roughly $57) at a little antique shop not too far from our place. I took it for a test drive today and wow, I loved it. It brought up so many feelings, including that of creativity and excitement. Excitement in knowing that each photo was carefully selected, taken only once, and somehow timed just right (fingers crossed). There’s a satisfaction in shooting with film, even when you’ve yet to see the finished product.
Who knows, maybe film is the way. The way to what exactly, I’m not sure, but I feel like it’s an avenue I need to explore, again.
“Anything that gets your blood racing is probably worth doing.” – Hunter S. Thompson