Some years ago I fell in love with a small digital camera, a Leica D-Lux 3. After using it, on a daily basis, for a long time I started to covet something… different and better.
I was tired of the D-Lux 3 so, as soon as they were available, I got a brand new Leica X1. What a gorgeous design object!
At the end of the first day with the X1 I felt like… okay… new camera, I must learn how to work with it… tomorrow will be better.
By the end of the second day I felt like… okay… must sell the X1.
I felt sad because I really wanted to love the X1 as I did the D-Lux 3.
It’s one of those things, we just didn’t connect.
There was nothing wrong with the X1, despite being a slow camera, it delivered amazing, and I mean amazing image quality, gorgeous colors, manual controls and it is a beautiful camera.
The files were indeed great raw material to work with in Lightroom or Photoshop but… that was the problem. The X1 was a cool camera, and I was not tired of the D-Lux, I was tired of the medium itself. I was tired of a routine that made me spend more time editing the images than taking pictures.
Sold the X1 and got a Zero Image 2000 6×6 pinhole camera. Red wood and golden knobs!
At the end of the first day, I developed the film and got a great set of… black stains that slightly resembled… something. Even up to this day, my ex-wife calls my pinhole images “stains”.
I absolutely loved that mess. I traveled back to the days of my first pinhole images using photo paper.
A mix of nostalgia and visual delight toke over and I never looked back.
Today, like before, I’m not tired of a certain digital camera. I’m tired of the routine imposed by the medium.
If home is where one’s heart is, than film, certainly, feels like home.
Zero Image 2000