Testing the new blog
There’s something different about travelling with a film camera. The pace is slower, more intentional. Every frame is a choice, every photo a question: Is this worth remembering? Last weekend, I packed my Canon F1 and a couple of Kodak Gold rolls and drove with no real destination. Just out of Riga, I followed smaller roads that curved through yellowing fields and faded wooden barns. I feel most drawn to these places—quiet, a little forgotten, beautifully imperfect. I stopped often. Not always to take photos, but to look. An empty bus stop at a crossroads. A single boot lying in a ditch. A blue metal fence so sun-bleached it looked grey. I don’t know why these things pull at me, but they do. I’ve come to trust that feeling.
Shooting film on trips like this makes it feel more like a conversation with the place, not just a capture. You don’t check the back of the camera. You move on. You wonder if you got it right. And a few days later, when the scans come back, you find out what that place looked like through your eyes. Some shots came out murky. A few are misaligned. But there’s always one or two that hit just right. Those stay with me. This blog is where I’ll keep sharing these short journeys. Nothing too grand, just pieces of life in motion. And if you’ve ever driven a Latvian backroad with a camera riding shotgun, you know: those roads have stories to tell.
