Annoyed with myself Re this thing where I take the worst film stock to the best places. I shot one roll of Lomochrome ’92 a good while back. Didn’t like the results, but still had a second roll sitting in the fridge. Couldn’t even give it away. No one wanted it. Should’ve binned it, but did I? Nope. Took it on a road trip to places I’ll probably never get to see again. Nice one. Anyway, here’s some snaps from Georgia, with colours at 11 on the muted dial.
This roll of Cinestill was probably already expired, because it had been in my fridge for a while already. It also went through four different airport x-ray scanners (London, Paris, Tbilisi and Istanbul) so expected it to be a bit degraded, but heck, I still love the results. Most of these images were taken around the Dezerter Bazaar (loved walking around here) and Didube bus station.
I’ve wanted to visit Tbilisi for the longest time, and I’m so glad I finally did. Super glad I went in autumn as well, because the light was so special and the mild, sunny weather was just perfect for walking around. Even if there was a lot of walking uphill! Could’ve shot many more rolls of film than I did. Can’t wait to return.
It’s spring in the city. Finally. Finally. Finally. Finally. Finally. Our bare arms and legs emerge. We’re pale, but unembarrassed, because we want/need the sun to stroke our long-cold limbs. There is a collective sigh of relief – I think we made it through.
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Somewhere between the concrete and the cool green lanes, I find I’m able to love my city again. I took the rough. I’ll take the smooth. It is on.
I do that thing again, where I pull a friend’s hand to my chest and say “feel my heart”. It’s beating furiously. You’re alive, you’re alive, you’re alive. Ready to run off somewhere imaginary, and wanting me to follow. Be chill, my heart, We walk down Shacklewell Lane, stiff-limbed and shaking. Talk in small clouds, and curse the cold night. Buzzing in the wake of scuzzy guitars. At the junction, we stamp our feet waiting for the lights. Charge on green for the warmth of a diner, and huddle amongst the nighthawks. Sit, and talk and weave a thread. Lament about this and that, between grease and bread. And then head into the cold again. Zig-zagging our way between sidewalk conversations to a glowing roundel in the distance. Freeze and wait. And wait and wait. And then a long journey with a heart as freight. Two trains. The moon. A frozen lark. Back home, it’s my phone that’s a light in the dark.
Safe.
I shot a roll of Lomography’s Metropolis a few years ago, and wasn’t that enamoured with the washed out look. A friend recently sent me another roll with the advice to focus on shooting reds, and I’m pretty chuffed with a few of these. Also love how the greys and blues rendered. In love with the composition of the header image. Me and my eye crossing paths with the humans of London at a bus stop. Street poetry.
One of the parks in my neighbourhood has an area which they let wild grasses grow free on in summer. Every year I revel in the variety and the beauty of these often overlooked plants. Since I was so stoked with the results I got with my previous roll of Lomochrome Purple, I thought I’d “try a thing” and show them off using the same film stock. I didn’t account for the fact that the lighter colours don’t really translate all that well. Yellow converts to pink, so the end result is a pinkish haze across most frames. But there’s a few dreamy alien-looking ones in there too, which I love. Interestingly, some light purple field scabious (I had to Google for absolute ages to find the name) turned out white in development. Have a look.
Subjektiv 