04.29

I'm counting down the hours to my vacation (138 to be exact). I'm itching to use film. The last time I visited NYC, I forgot to bring my Pentax, which irked me to no end. Perhaps I'll create my very own dark room one day (another unfulfilled promise from a class back in 2007). I just realized that I've lived in this apartment for over two years. I started from scratch, my insides being fricken ground zero. I had a bedroom filled with boxes from floor to ceiling, remnants of an old life that I despised, and my heart was scraped raw. I'm still rebuilding and find it pretty mind-blowing that I can do whatever I want. Set up a dark room, repaint my walls, turn my bathroom into a mini-garden, or just shrug at the dishes for a whole week. My mind is wandering, something I've allowed myself to do more often. It hurts less. Everything does.

04.28

Who doesn't worship Polaroids? In this digital era, keeping it real is really difficult! I've found that there's something peculiarly comforting about unedited still life (like a hot cup of tea for the soul), and if it happens to look worn because the film is expired, well, instant charm. Until I can afford to put in a big order at The Impossible Project, 8 pictures per month will do just fine. Perfect, even.