My money allowance in college—they all went to the photo shops for films and development. I started shooting black and white because they were cheaper at thirty–six shots, 200 ISO. It was sufficient back then—having thirty–six in the roll. Having a couple or more rolls would take months to expose.
Only precious moments were captured and the moments captured became captivating.
Etched in my memory until now was the dream I had of having a digital camera—yes, unlimited shutter clicks. It was a feeling—no, more like a longing—in my waking life that manifested itself one night. I woke up in frustration—of only dreaming, of not having.
Imagine the possibilities was the only thing I could think of. Imagine the possibilities of never having to curtail my favorite moments.
The results were endless offshoots—photos that were not five–star material yet not fit for the trash bin either. So they get exported into a lower resolution for easier archival.
Maybe one day, future me would match the feelings of those blurred and unkempt slices of life. Scarcity, then, would not only be about quantity but about time incapable of rewinding.