Almost every weekend, I walk past groups of friends snapping photos together before a night out, taking bursts of nearly identical shots. I often find myself in the same situation, posing for hundreds of pictures for the perfect Instagram post. You then overanalyze each photo, trying to find one that encapsulates “the vibe.” But this ritual sacrifices intention for appearance, distancing us from the moments we ought to cherish — fun nights out with our friends.
At the same time, photography offers us an opportunity to document our memories, but instead of the endless iPhone shots, we could capture memories in a different way: film photography. With a disposable film camera, the photographer has 27 photos — 27 chances to capture the moments in front of you, not immediately knowing how the last photo turned out. Intention becomes everything. You wind the camera up, point and check your lighting. With the shutter of the camera, the picture is final, and you’re not waiting for the next silent tap of the iPhone. More simply, when shooting on film, you cannot take pictures aimlessly, and thank goodness for that.
I began shooting on film in ninth grade. The forced intentionality behind using a disposable camera felt foreign but compelling — a limited number of photos in each roll of film. A year later, I received a Canon AE-1 for my birthday, quickly learning that shooting film required more technique than I thought — a lesson discovered after I botched my first roll of film because I exposed it to light. For me, film was not just a way to take pictures, it became a hobby and an art form. Film photography offers an experience that society is rapidly forgetting — presence and intentionality. The shutter of the camera is more impactful than the silent tap of the iPhone. It is a countercultural act against perfectionism and instant gratification that has become ever present on college campuses.
In a fast-paced time of our lives, film is a way to engage with our environment with creativity and clarity. We have become obsessed with efficiency and results, rarely taking the time to enjoy the process of creation or learning. We focus on acing the exam, not always prioritizing our actual education. It is easy to fall into autopilot where creativity is pushed to the side for academic achievement. We do things for our academic or professional pursuits but often forget about nurturing our spirits, our creativity and our humanity.
In the era of smart phones, photography can feel almost too accessible and thoughtless to be taken seriously. But while film creates intention behind picture-taking, it isn’t — and shouldn’t be — the only way to engage in this process. It can be expensive, inconvenient or otherwise unfit as someone’s mode of creativity. The lesson of film, however, is universal. It is more than just photos to have, but the mindfulness that comes with it. Film photography is a prime example to practice patience and creative expression, but one does not need to partake in this specific hobby to achieve that.
In her essay, “On Keeping a Notebook,” Joan Didion brilliantly affirms the value of preserving the experiences that matter to us as individuals — emphasizing process over product. These moments are filled with private meaning and might be difficult to understand for others. Didion emphasizes that her notebook entries are not attempts at recording every experience of hers with accuracy, but rather a snapshot of how she felt at a certain point in time. Film photography can serve the same purpose — helping us slow down and lose our expectations of perfection.
Our academic careers can feel all-encompassing, making it difficult to make time for hobbies and activities that we enjoy just for the sake of doing them. But in order to show up as our best selves in our academic endeavors, we need to take care of ourselves and find joy in activities outside of school. The digital world is making us feel disconnected and, in a way, less human, inspiring much of Gen Z to turn back to analog activities, a trend that should inspire us all. There is so much to do: painting, knitting, baking, journaling, playing an instrument or practicing yoga.
To be clear, I am no better than the average student: I too am on my phone more often than I’d like to admit. But that is exactly why I prioritize activities, like shooting film and journaling, that encourage me to ditch the pressure of a perfect result and, instead, invest in a gratifying, grounding process. We are experiencing screen fatigue and need to let our brains rest by engaging in activities that are purely for enjoyment. So, on nights out, let’s capture the moment and not strive for perfection.
Beatriz Lindemann ’29 can be reached at beatriz_lindemann@brown.edu. Please send responses to this column to letters@browndailyherald.com and other opinions to opinions@browndailyherald.com.
