Originally Posted by
jcoldslabs
Well, why do people climb mountains to get to the peak instead of being helicoptered in near the top (for those mountains whose peaks are heli-accessible, of course)? I don't know, but I think it has something to do with the process of getting there being as important, if not moreso, than reaching the end point. You could argue that getting dropped off near the top gets you a shortcut to all the good stuff: the view, the dizzying heights, the clean, cool air, the snapshot of yourself giving the thumbs-up to the camera at the peak. I mean, it sure saves a hell of a lot of time and trouble versus climbing up there yourself. (The same goes for driving versus hiking somewhere, or baking your own cake from scratch versus buying one, or hunting your own game instead of shopping for meat at the supermarket, etc.)
The other methods I could have employed to achieve the same result you see below would only make sense if the end result were the most important thing to me, but it isn't. I know I sound like a simpleton when I say the journey is the goal, but I've realized for a while now that that's true. If my goal were to have the cleanest, fastest route to making photographs, I would have different gear entirely. But in shooting this photo today I realized, mostly while standing still for three whole minutes and staring at myself and the camera the whole time, that using this rickety old camera, feeling the finger-worn patina of the lens barrel, securing it into an old iris clamp, etc.--all this makes me happy and satisfied. It puts a smile on my face. And this is true whether the final image is a winner, or a mediocre (at best) shot like this one. Making photos I'm proud of is icing on the cake, but just making them in my own way and in my own time is the reason I bother to do it at all.
Kodak 2D 8x10, 8 1/2" Gundlach Perigraphic convertible, Kodak Low Contrast Aerial Duplicating Film (SO-277), 3 minute exposure.
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