As a seasoned photographer with a rich history of engagement with both film and digital photography, I’ve had the immense pleasure of working with an impressive array of cameras. My collection spans from treasured antiques like a one hundred-year-old Kodak, which is a marvel of early photographic engineering, to the cutting-edge technology encapsulated in the sleek Sony A7 series, which represents the pinnacle of modern digital photography.

The array of cameras I have encountered in my career has taught me that each camera, irrespective of its age or technology, holds a unique value and potential for creativity. Each one has its special place in the timeline of photography and in my own personal journey as a photographer.

Reflecting on the period a few years ago when the world slowed down and we found ourselves sequestered in our homes, I rekindled my relationship with an old favorite—the Minolta srT series. This wasn’t just a reversion to past equipment; it was a nostalgic journey that allowed me to reconnect with a significant part of my photographic journey. Minolta cameras had been a part of my life since my early days, and revisiting them was like conversing with an old friend, familiar yet full of new stories to tell.

Going back to the fundamental aspects of photography with Minolta, I rediscovered my love for the craft. The tactile sensation of loading film, the mechanical click of the shutter, and the anticipation of developing shots offered a stark contrast to the immediate gratification of digital photography.

Minolta was always a very respected brand but underrated. While Canon and Nikon stole the limelight, Pentax and Minolta worked on refining their systems. Minolta, to me, always built a robust system and their lenses were amazing at depicting exactly what you saw through the viewfinder. Pentax, also known for their robust cameras, depict scenes with an ethereal feel. I have always admired Pentax lenses for that reason.

Discovering that I was losing my sight was a difficult pill to swallow. Two months back, as I was wallowing in self-pity, I stumbled upon an eBay auction that now seems like it was a beacon in the dark—a Pentax Spotmatic F paired with its infamously sharp 50mm f/1.4 lens, all starting at a mere $6.00. Not taking it too seriously, I threw in a whimsical bid of $13, never truly entertaining the thought that it would be mine. Imagine my surprise when the notification came through—I had actually won.

Our financial situation was tight, threading on the line of being broke, but I completed the transaction and shared the news with my incredible wife, Deana. Her support has been unwavering, and sharing my victories, however small, always felt like the wins were ours to cherish together.

The package took its time, but its arrival was like a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day. We both have our Pentax K1000s, perfectly suited for each of us, yet the Spotmatic was a stranger to my collection. That all changed the moment I held it. It was as if the camera was an extension of my hand; I instantly knew that this little machine and I would create many fond memories together.

I invested a languorous afternoon into its care, ensuring that the mirror bumper had new life, the light seals were replaced, and that no old grease had turned against the inner workings of this mechanical masterpiece. The camera was in pristine condition, and the lens was immaculate—free from dust and the fog of age.

Taking it out for a maiden journey, I felt a blend of excitement and calmness. As I operated the camera, each subtle feature—from the smoothly operating advance lever to the distinct click of the shutter—resonated with me, as if it were speaking the language of my passion.

The results were nothing short of stunning. The roll of film developed revealed photographs that held an exceptional quality, with a kind of soul that only film can capture. So far, I have only shot one roll of film in it, but the promise of many more to come lingers in the air—provided, of course, I manage to keep the Spotmatic out of the admiring hands of my beloved wife. For in our house, the love for photography is a shared one, and the allure of this newly-acquired treasure is strong. Who knows? Perhaps this will become her new favorite, but for now, I remain its devoted custodian and collaborator in capturing the beauty of our world. It really is her camera. 😉