There’s something magical about shooting film — the anticipation, the texture, the quiet patience it asks of me. In a digital world that moves fast, film photography pulls me back into the present moment. It reminds me why I fell in love with this craft in the first place.

In an age where photography is instant and infinite, film slows me down — and I love that about it. There’s something deeply nostalgic about loading a roll of film, advancing the lever, and listening to the soft click of the shutter. Every step feels intentional. Every frame means something.

When I look through my film camera, it’s as if time itself pauses. There’s a spark of electricity in my chest — that beautiful mix of curiosity and trust. I’m not just taking a photo; I’m creating one. I have to surrender control and lean into the unknown. That unpredictability is what makes film so alive.

Film is full of imperfections — the grain, the light leaks, the gentle softness that digital rarely captures. But those imperfections are what make it real. They remind me that life itself isn’t flawless. Every frame tells a story that unfolds only when the negatives return, days or weeks later.

Shooting film forces me to slow down. With a limited number of frames, I can’t fire off hundreds of shots and choose one later. I have to pause, observe, breathe, and connect — with the light, with my subject, with my own intuition. It’s a meditative process that invites me to be present. Shooting film isn’t about resisting technology, it’s about reconnecting with the craft of seeing. 

I shoot mostly 35mm film — it’s versatile, familiar, and delightfully unpredictable. But I’m also drawn to the dream of medium and large format photography, where every frame feels monumental. And then there’s Polaroid — that instant alchemy of watching an image bloom before my eyes. Even now, it feels like magic.

For me, film isn’t just about how it looks (though I’ll never stop loving the timeless tones and textures). It’s about how it feels. It’s about patience, curiosity, and the art of slowing down in a world that rarely allows it.

When clients see my film images, I hope they feel that same warmth — the tangible, imperfect, deeply human quality that only film can bring. Because at its heart, photography is about connection. And film helps me connect — to my subjects, to my art, and to myself.

Shooting film keeps me grounded. It reminds me that beauty often lives in the imperfect and the unexpected — in the grain, the waiting, the wonder. Film gives me permission to slow down, to feel, and to create with intention. Whether it’s 35mm, Polaroid, or someday medium or large format, I’ll always be chasing that same quiet magic — the moment I lift my camera, breathe in, and feel that familiar spark in my heart.