I have been shooting film for as long as I remember, since childhood. At first I shot film because that was the only thing I had, I was a child.
Later, digital cameras appeared, and I got a small one. I was 14. I was shocked. I could take endless photos and didn't need film. I pushed that small camera to its limits, and even beyond.
Then, technology kept moving, and big digital cameras became more accessible. With good lenses and all that stuff. But I was a student and had no money. And again all I had was my father's old film camera and his remaining old film. So I returned to that.
When that film finished, I had to buy new film myself. It was quite expensive, but beautiful and available. For some years, most of the scholarship, or a big part of the salary, went to film: buying it, developing it, and scanning it.
I never really had a real cool digital camera. At some point I bought a Honeywell Pentax Spotmatic because it was mentioned in one of my favorite books from my youth. The main character in that book was shooting with this camera and there was some mysterious story within that. A camera alone was never enough for me. There had to be a story behind it. Some kind of magic. Some kind of connection. Something that makes it sparkle.
I lived with this camera for a long time. I moved with it from place to place. Sometimes shooting, sometimes not. It was always a bit strange — I didn't know what to do with all these photos. Folders with developed film, all put into sleeves. Lots of scanned film on the hard drive that nobody really ever saw. Sometimes I printed them and kept them at home. When friends came to visit, the prints sometimes came out. And if someone liked something — take a few with you, if you want. It happened too rarely, but that was always appreciated. I liked that a picture could start to live its own life somewhere else, not just in my collection.
Then came a kind of crisis as a photographer. It happened in Amsterdam. The camera was there, but so was this feeling that everything was already photographed. I just wanted to walk through the streets. Not to look for a picture anymore. Not to chase something beautiful. I wanted to experience what was happening directly. To stop having this aim to find something "worth shooting". There was so much of everything. And it felt like it would never fit into a camera, or into thousands of rolls of film, or anywhere at all. And film was getting more and more expensive, as well. So I just naturally stopped.
It ended in Amsterdam, and it also started there again, years later. One day I found a camera at a flea market. It was very old, and very cool. I really loved it. It had a strong character. It felt very fresh. Very much mine. Quite weird, and amazing. I don't even know the right words for it. I literally spent a few hours deciding whether to buy it or not. I remembered that I wasn't really shooting anymore, and that it would probably be a waste of money. But not only money. I was worried about space in my luggage — I was about to fly to India and then travel around Asia. On one hand, it's great to have a camera with you, but only if you are really going to shoot. Otherwise it's just extra weight.
In the end, I decided to buy it. I shot a couple of rolls in Amsterdam. And at some point the strap gave way, the camera fell on the ground and broke.
I was really upset. But the flow was already there, and it was impossible to stop it. This happened a couple of days before my flight. I had a transfer in Copenhagen, and I tried to find the same camera there, or at least something similar. I was searching online. Websites, listings, marketplaces. There was nothing I could get right away this day. I went to a second-hand camera shop. They didn't have what I was looking for either. But then my eye caught something. It was not old weird film camera. It was quite beautiful new film camera. And as it turned out, it was one of the last film cameras made before digital came. It was not cheap at all, especially for film. But it was the thing that didn't let me just say "no" and walk away. So I bought it, even much faster than previous one. The guys in the shop said "this one is a monster".
I bought it and a huge bag of different films. And it was expensive as hell. And that was the point where the idea of this project appeared. The usual and quite common thought "it would be nice if people could do what they love" didn't just disappear as it usually does. It started to move and transform.
My pictures are good and I do this for whole my life. I have almost ten rolls of film shot in India. I also have at least the same amount of film for my trip to Nepal. So for some time, one way or another, I will keep shooting. And new photos will appear.
At least I would like to show them to people or give them to somebody. I can send a physical print to someone, and they can receive it and feel something. And maybe someone would be happy to support this project somehow. A postcard, a bigger photo, a poster, print it on a mug, or whatever makes sense or even not. I think today you can print almost anything, even a huge roadside banner that you see every day on your way to work. Or maybe there are ideas or advice out there — that could be even more valuable.
So this is my proposal.
I wrote this text, and I will make a very simple page and put it there. I have no idea how to sell things, how to make something profitable, and how all of this is supposed to work. I also have no idea how to properly organize or automate logistics, what services to use, what people need and what they don't. I am not ready to design a complex system, I don't want to calculate things, overthink them, or build something complicated.
All I will do for now is this.
I will put my photos here, you can look at them, you can support the project if you want. You can click on any photo, and there will be a place where you can write whatever you want — a thank-you, a reaction, a complaint, an idea, an advice. Maybe you want a digital copy and print it yourself, or maybe you want me to send you physical print, or many prints from different places in the world. Or maybe you know a service that prints things really well. Just write. Any reaction, thought, idea, or feedback can be very helpful. And if you leave your contact, I will get in touch, and we will figure something out together.
At this stage, this is about understanding if I can do it or if this is needed by anyone at all. Maybe I will just send three photos from Nepal to my friends and stop there, who knows. Or maybe this will allow me to buy few more rolls of film and keep shooting.