look, it's jessica

got the 35mm film back today that i put through my holga. this is my favourite.

also today, i bought an olympus trip 35 for R150! and it works and stuff.
(i think).

also today, i bought slide film instead of 120mm film and felt like an idiot. but then i realized it's ok, i can try it out.

also, i think i am addicted to books and cameras.

i like this one too:

26 june. be there.

i know some people, who play in bands, and you should check them out, all three of you who might read this, ok?

new old camera

found this kodak dualflex III in a cupboard. think it was my grandfather's. looked it up on the inter-web and apparently it's from the late 40s/early 50s. it's supposed to take kodak 620 film (discontinued), but i found a site which shows you how to modify 120mm film to fit in it.
the lens is pretty dirty but it seems to work in general.
so i'm going to run a 120mm roll through it sometime soonish hopefully.
and that, friends, is how i'm going to avoid school work this term.


cellphone camera ftw.

the best is over.

still from my second roll of holga photos.
i've got a 35mm roll in there at the moment that i've been working away at for about a month now. should probably finish it up soonish and see what come out.

all the pictures are on my flickr

december 2005

Kodak EasyShare LS743, 4.0 megapixels. First ever camera. Grade 8.

overexposed. whoops.

(waarvan die hart vol is rol uit by die mond)

Love you long time

Today's photo is from January 2008. Taken at the Shell near Chris's house.
Early experimentation with long-time exposure on my old Kodak EasyShare.
Simpler times.

a, Question.

who reads these things?



who reads these things?

start?

i'm thinking of actually getting this blog going.
here is a photo.
it is not of me.

i like the night sky.

i like the night sky.

there's something beautiful about the infinite possibilities it represents, the way it seems to hold no specific position in space. the sky above you is the same sky as that above russia or america or the antarctic. there are no boundaries up there, no restrictions. yet the freedom it represents is an antithesis to the sheer unattainability of soaring the skies unaided, owning it, being it. so we lay back on fields and rooftops, gazing at clouds and stars and sunsets, yearning to be a part of the remarkable world above us, marvelling at the eternal mystique surrounding what is, essentially, just open space. staring up at the clear night sky seems to connect us to something greater than ourselves; something grabs us and pulls at our minds and souls. there is a strange, fascinating terror in seeing just how small we are, yet simultaneously a kind of peace and contentment.

it is by looking at the night sky that i feel truly alive.