the last half of my 2015, in film.

when my grandfather passed away in 2012, he left boxes of slides, photos, and film negatives behind. now, i’m no luddite, but of the thousands upon thousands of photos i’ve taken on my phone, i can confidently assume none will ever be viewed by any offspring of mine. hell, they probably won’t even be looked at again by me.

at the risk of sounding melodramatic, the ease of capturing a moment and remembering it effortlessly in our pockets has stripped the weight from the experience. shooting film makes me question if the moment is worth saving. if the answer is no, it reminds me that it’s alright to remember things imperfectly, and settle for an uninterrupted experience - with nothing but an inexact memory as evidence.

* * *

2015, particularly it’s end, was a rough one. that said, i can’t remember the last time i’ve felt quite as optimistic about a new year.

01 02 03 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 Middle West

12b 13 14 yeah, fuck that guy.

15 16 17 18 my favorite spot in the city, on the (very windy) day i left my job.

19 20 Hot Springs, Arkansas.

21 23 24 25 26 my good friend, former roommate, and wonderful human being, Risa, at my second favorite spot in the city.

27 Athens, Ohio

28 29 32 33 i’ve since gotten a haircut and put a shirt on.

34 35 31 36 37 38