Finding An Expired Film Camera

A forgotten Friend

Rummaging through an old storeroom. Bare concrete walls. Cold metal racks. Shelves and drawers filled with abandoned tools. Broken. Obsoleted. Forgotten.

An old box. Kodak yellow. You know the exact tone. It is the colour of memory. Nostalgia. Your family history.

Picking it up, I felt a little rush. An old disposable camera. Held it to my eye and looked through the viewfinder. Turned it over and grinned—it hadn't been used.

You know, I'd love to shoot film. But only 24 frames? These days, I need 2400 to get the right shot. What's this? Expired 20 years ago? Well, I've got to use this thing, don't I?

What to photograph? 24 frames that expired 20 years ago. Got to make them count.

I shot film all the time as a kid. I never thought about it, just snapped shots of stuff I loved. Let's try that again. But what? Why do I have to ask that? Who have I become in 20 years that I have to ask what I love? Why don't I just know?

The kid didn't ask, he just knew. Back then, the shutter clicked without hesitation, capturing whatever made my heart beat faster.

I felt that chemistry the moment I saw it. Touched it. Discovered it hadn't been used. I'm missing the point, thinking all wrong. It's not about frame count, it's about chemistry. Chemistry with the moment. 20 years in the making.

Toss aside frame count and perfection and just let this film suggest your next move. Expired film. Nostalgic prints. Autumn. Crisp air. Cozy fires. Coloured leaves.

Camping?

Autumn painted the Canadian landscape in amber and crimson, I gathered my family into our van, heading north for one last camping trip before winter's arrival—forgotten camera tucked safely in my hoodie pocket.

Every film stock has a unique character. Passing its expiry hides the character until you see it in print. Like a forgotten friend who returns after decades, still the same but full of surprises. That's the magic of expired film, isn't it? You surrender control and embrace what comes.

And, as I dropped off the film, eager to see my printed photos from the trip, I realized it had never really been about the film either. It was about chemistry with the moment. Even if the camera had been defective and there were no pictures, it inspired a moment that never would have existed otherwise.

Where to next, old friend?

Btw -

Revelry Collection

is a great place for film photography inspiration here on Substack.

Mat