To Everyone:

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”

― Theodore Roosevelt

Went on a fabulous, extravagant ski trip, took a film camera.

In this business it takes time to be really good – and by that time, you’re obsolete.  -Cher

This story begins with a roommate I had at Mizzou who used to show anyone he kind of liked his slides.   He would project them up on a Kodak projector, and they were mostly amphibians and lizards that he had photographed in his hiking travels.  He was talented, and would go on to pursue a lifelong passion of shooting nature and landscapes in exotic places.  I think, roughly then, is where this story begins.  I was fascinated by the process of this, at first, it seemed to be just a problem of equipment, but, like most passions, this is a thing that cannot be bought.

The story of me shooting film, begins some years later, when I had time and energy to devote to it.  I started with an old Pentax ME and a few lenses, and switched quickly to a well beat up Nikon F3.  7 years later, and many rolls later,  I picked up a  Nikon D40. This was a few months before Claire was born, and I’ve been digital ever since.  That was 2013.  I recently stumbled across a cache of shot and unshot film, and figured I would take a full manual film camera on a ski trip.  So, here we are.

Let me explain this picutre, my favorite.    I shot this on the far Earstern side of the mountain, on a run called St. John’s, at the top, looking out over Jackson.  The pictures on either side of that shot were both boring crap.  

The few rolls, the few moments dedicated to pure indulgence of a nonsensical viewpoint was a rewarding challenge.  An effort to get, something better than I expected, to get something through a process that you only have one (1) shot at the moment.

Film still works, it’s till workabable, and it can still be yours.