I don’t believe I’ve taken many photos as nice as this since that first summer learning film photography. Maybe it’s the camera: an old Hasselblad 500c. Maybe it’s the fact that I was learning, and slow as all get out: every exposure would take long minutes of focusing, metering and measuring. Or maybe it was just the newness. Novelty is real and real nice, like summer love for leatherette, chrome, and silver halide. 

The way I make pictures now feels so careless by comparison. They feel snapped, snatched, picked up, and not made or observed. Just little snips, and I think I’m just realizing all of this now, and it’s making me a bit sad. 

The good news is that camera is upstairs, in my bedroom in a small green military case. There’s loads of these cases around the internet; late Vietnam era nightvision and optic carrying cases. Costs about $30 a piece. I laser cut some foam inserts for one and it holds my Hasselblad along with three lenses and a few other knick knacks. 

Things as snug as a bug in a rug, and has been for months. It needs some exercise.