Why I Shoot 35mm Film
I’ve been shooting film for over 10 years ever since I was a teenager (I’m not trying to brag here, my photos were NOT great at all). I started with disposable cameras, capturing whatever felt interesting in the moment without overthinking it. Eventually, I was the camera that changed everything for me, the Pentax K1000. I still have and use it frequently. I will protect it at all costs.
In a world of smartphones where we can instantly snap 40 identical bursts of a sunset on a smartphone and never look at them again, there is something profoundly rebellious about carrying a metal box with only 36 chances to get it right. Every frame became a decision and felt like a risk.
That limitation taught me to slow down. To pay attention to the light, the timing, the feeling of a moment before I press the shutter. Instead of reacting, I became more present and intentional which ultimately made me feel more connected to what I was shooting. Shooting film taught me to see the world differently. Instead of moving through it as a passerby, I became an observer, a quiet collector of moments and memories, some my own and some belonging to others.
What's The Point When There's Digital?
People always ask why I spend money on film when my phone takes photos for free. The point is that film makes you care more. When you know each shot costs a little bit of money, you don't waste them. You stop and think, "Is this actually a good photo?" That tiny bit of hesitation makes you a better photographer because you're being more thoughtful.
There is also the surprise factor. You can't see the photo right away. You have to take your film to a shop and wait a few days to get the pictures back. It’s like a little gift to yourself. By the time you see the photos, you’ve almost forgotten what you took, and it's fun to see how they turned out.
Plus, film is "real." Digital files can get deleted or lost on a broken hard drive, but a film negative is a physical thing you can hold in your hand. Even in fifty years, you can hold that piece of plastic up to the light and see your memories that can take you back in time.
Digital captures the moment. Film preserves the feeling, and to me, that’s worth it.
The Anticipation and Happy "Accidents"
If you ask anyone who knows me, I can be a very impatient person, but ironically, I love the wait in between taking the photos and developing my film. I love never knowing what I'm gonna get.
There’s something about not knowing exactly how the images will turn out that makes the process feel more meaningful. I’m not immediately reviewing or critiquing every shot or worrying what I'm getting right or wrong. I’m just trusting the moment I captured, making that time in between becomes part of the experience.
When I finally get my scans back, it feels like opening something I forgot I had. I get to relive the moments all over again, but with fresh eyes. Sometimes they turn out exactly how I imagined, and sometimes they surprise me in ways I couldn’t have planned—and that’s part of what makes film so special.
Of course, not every roll comes back perfect. Some frames are missed, some are softer than expected, and sometimes a whole roll doesn’t turn out the way I hoped. But at the end of the day, it’s all part of the process, and I know something good is just around the corner.
That mix of highs and lows is part of what keeps me coming back. It’s not about perfection, evem the mistakes can be happy mistakes. Sometimes that shows up in unexpected ways, like a light leak or an accidental double exposure. They’re not always planned, but they can add something unique to an image that you wouldn’t get otherwise. It’s just part of shooting film—you learn to accept it, and sometimes those frames end up being your favorites.
The Film Community
There’s an incredible, global community of film shooters who are eager to help each other. Whether it’s sharing tips on a specific film stock, troubleshooting a 40-year-old camera on a forum, or meeting up for a PhotoWalk, the niche nature of film brings people together.
I’ve experienced that firsthand through Instagram, where I’m constantly connecting with people from all over the world and learning new techniques, getting advice, and seeing how others approach film in their own way. It’s a space where people genuinely want to share what they know, simply for the love of film and photography.
The film community feels like a shared hobbyist club, where everyone is excited to see what someone else captured on a roll of Portra 400 or how they experimented with a roll of expired film from 1995. There’s a level of curiosity and support that makes it feel less competitive and more collaborative.
If you’re in the DMV and looking to connect with the local film community, here are a few groups to check out:
Dupont Photo Walk- https://www.instagram.com/dupontphotowalk/
Charm City Photo Club-https://www.meetup.com/charm-city-photo-club/?msockid=107071c3281b6f683a8c60ed29746ecc
Baltimore Scenes- https://www.instagram.com/baltimore_scenes/
Glen Echo PhotoWorks- https://www.glenechophotoworks.org/
Will I Ever Stop Shooting Film?
With all the modern tech at my fingertips, will there come a day when I finally hang up my old 35mm cameras for good?
The short answer is no.
(I also have too many film cameras to let go of anyway.)
I won't stop shooting film because film isn't just a "backup" to my digital work—it’s a completely different language. At this point, it’s not just something I use. It's a part of my workflow, my style, and my perspective. If i have a digital camera on me, I 100% also have my film camera on me.
Digital is where I go for perfection, speed, and certainty. But film is where I go for the soul. There is a specific kind of magic in not knowing exactly what you have until days later. That mystery keeps the excitement of photography alive for me. If I only shot digital, I’d worry that I’d eventually start seeing the world in pixels and settings rather than moments and light.
And honestly, I’d probably get bored and uninspired
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