In fifth grade I created my first images with a plastic Diana camera before it was fashionable, and pricey. I developed monochrome film in a Kodak daylight processing tank. I could never find a way to stop that frustrating plastic film separator to stop sticking to the film emulsion.
I bought a Pentax SP1000 with money that I saved from my paper route, built a darkroom with as little money as I could get away with, and spent my time irritating friends and neighbors, developing prints, and generally having a good time.
Nothing feels like a professional camera from the 60s or the 70s in your hands at the moment of exposure. There is no shutter delay. There is no preview or postview. Every exposure is an adventure because you never really know what you get until you get it. Since the digital revolution, I bought a number of bodies and lenses that were state of the art when I was a kid but have since been exiled to the necropolis of eBay. Along with the K1000 and its Spotmatic siblings, but I own the venerable Nikon F, with standard prism, a number of last run Nikon 35mm cameras, some Canons past and ancient, several rangefinders, and even a few Mamiyas.
Most of what I photograph centers around ancient technology. Steam locomotives. War birds of the Cold War and before. Elements of our now defunct manned space programs. One self-assignment prompted me to create the Visions of Vocation domain and the product is on the Sanctuary page while some hang in a Bremerton church.
I shoot some color but monochrome suits me better. I like the mood from the natural grain structure, the subtle tones, and how they complement each other. I don’t get an instant preview from a Konica T-3, but there are some technologies that need to be preserved and enjoyed.