I guess I like a camera with a story.
He got the cake. I got the camera.
When I was seven, my dad lived in Buffalo, NY. He would pick me up at school every other Friday afternoon for our weekend together. The kids would yell, “Corinne! You’re Dad’s here!” and my heart would leap.
He lived in this apartment on the first floor. I loved this apartment. I loved the front porch. I learned to ride my bike in the nearby park and alleyways. We adopted a dog and named him Mo. We were within walking distance of an ice cream shop. And I watched The Never Ending Story at least twenty times in that living room.
One day at the park, we came across a camera bag. A Nikon FG20 was inside. We brought it home and called the number on the business card we had found inside the bag. The owner never picked it up.
Over the years, my Dad and I took photos together. He had grown up in Leroy, NY. During one of our visits to my grandma Sally’s house, we stopped near a farm and took photos of the cows.
While in Nice last month, I came across a Kodak Brownie. The seed that had been planted when I was seven, sprouted. I love this medium, from loading the camera to the preciousness of each shot to dropping off and waiting for the film to be developed.
I started looking into other used film cameras one evening and remembered the one I had found with my dad when I was seven. I texted him. Could I have it? He said yes, although he wanted a Wegman’s chocolate cake in exchange.
He got the cake. I got the camera. I guess I like a camera with a story.
I’m on my third roll of film with the Nikon. I’ve been exploring the city in the morning and dropping off the film as soon as Scott’s Photo opens at 9 AM.
It comforts me to know that something I was introduced to at a young age has given me such joy more than thirty years later. I think of the things I try to introduce to my kids now—movies, plays, museums, a walk around the block, a piece of broccoli. Although it may not bear fruit today, who knows what it may spark later.
xo, Corinne
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