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Easter Film
About a week ago, I found myself immersed in a nostalgic experience right here in my office. The day had been dedicated to sorting through various remnants of my photographic past. It was during this process of reorganization, after having moved my office, that I stumbled upon a treasure trove of camera paraphernalia—a collection of lenses, tripods, and of course, a plethora of cameras that I had accumulated over the years.
Amid this assortment, my eyes landed on a peculiar piece that has always captured my affection and frustration in equal measure—the quirky little Minolta 9000AF. This vintage camera, with its robust build and unique autofocus system, represented both the innovation of its time and the limitation of technology that has since been vastly improved upon.
Much to my amazement, nestled within its solid chassis was a curious artifact—a roll of Kentmere 100 film, partly used but forgotten. The mystery of its content set my mind racing. What images had I captured, and when? The intrigue was palpable.
Given that there were two exposures remaining, I decided to complete the roll last Friday. I sought scenes that felt in tune with the nostalgic theme that had permeated my day. The shutter release was a window back in time, a mechanical echo from the past.
Saturday morning greeted me with anticipation. Eager to uncover the hidden images, I set about developing the film, using 510Pyro at the recommended box speed. The methodical process of development was almost meditative, each step a small ritual in the revelation of memories captured on this unexpectedly discovered film roll.
I watched as the images slowly materialized on the negatives—snapshots in time, echoes of the past. And while the results were yet to be scanned and fully reviewed, this journey through my forgotten analog endeavor reminds me why photography, especially captured on film, is so magical. It’s not merely about recording moments; it’s about preserving them in a medium that can surprise you years later, with hidden gems just waiting to be rediscovered.
As it turns out, the film was from about this time last year. Luckily, there was a photograph on the roll of a local church. The royal cloth draped over the cross, as written about in a previous post, signified that this roll was from the Easter period of 2023. At that time, my wife, Deana, and I were not yet married. We got married on Earth Day last year.
The featured photo of this post is of my wife gazing out over the mountains of the upstate. I wonder what she was thinking at that time. Was she contemplating the future, pondering whether or not she should marry this goofball? I can’t say for sure, but I do find myself wondering. We have been married for almost a year. Indeed, it has been an adventure, brimming with memories etched into each day. We’ve shared laughter that filled rooms and comforted each other during moments of silence that needed no words. Through both great times and tough times, we’ve been inseparably united, two souls entwined by destiny and love.
She is my love and my greatest treasure in this crazy world. Deana, the name that dances on my tongue with the lightness of joy and the weight of immeasurable gratitude. That smile of hers, a radiant beam that cuts through the murkiness of any gloom, can rejuvenate my spirit with the simplest of glances.
A lot of women would have made a run for it when they found out that their new husband was going blind. But thankfully, my amazing wife has been my rock, my constant, my vigilant guiding star through these past few tumultuous months. It’s in these challenging times that you realize the true strength of the bonds you share. These are the moments when love is not just a feeling but an anchor, and partnership not merely a status but an action lived out daily.
God knew that we needed each other and brought us together. In times of doubt, in times when the world seems to spin on an unpredictable axis, it is this truth that remains unshaken. We were meant to be together – our paths interwoven into a beautiful tapestry of shared experiences, dreams, and aspirations.
With each passing day, my appreciation for her grows. As we approach a full year of marriage, my heart is full of hopes and wishes for the journey ahead. I love you, Deana Mae. With every beat of my heart and with every breath I take, I am so thankful for you.
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Life Update
Stability often seems like a figment of our imagination, especially when we attempt to establish any kind of routine or long-term plan. My intentions to diligently update the blog and encapsulate the beautiful world through my lens for the next magazine issue were thwarted by the indiscriminate whims of life.
Last week’s agenda was teeming with prospective posts and exploratory jaunts into the wild to capture those frozen moments in time. However, fate took an unexpected turn.
On the preceding Friday, as if on cue from an unwelcome script, a virulent sickness took hold of me. At that time, the nature of my malady was a mystery, but its impact was immediate and undeniable. I heeded my body’s distress signals, retreating early to seek the comfort of my bed’s embrace, where I lingered through the dark hours.
As Saturday dawned, I found myself no better off, wrestling with the relentless clutches of my unseen adversary. Yet, by sheer force of will on Sunday, Deana and I ventured out, attempting to bask in the revelry of Saint Patrick’s Day and to grasp at the slipping sands of my birthday celebration under the specter of my illness.
It wasn’t until Tuesday that clarity was afforded to me by a visit to the doctor. Their diagnosis? The formidable Flu, Type A. At 52, while not resigning to antiquity, I felt besieged as never before. The objective clause of the line made famous by Oppenheimer, “I’ve become death…”—resonated with me as I grappled with this unwelcome guest.
This ordeal wasn’t a mere skirmish but a prolonged siege—the kind that batters the gates with relentless ferocity from daybreak to nightfall. The flu typically embarks on its course with the unpredictability of a tempest, its rampage abating within a matter of days. Contrarily, this strain has held me captive in its tumultuous embrace, relenting only on its own enigmatic terms.
The manifestations of my ailment are numerous, an anthology of discomfort I wish not to impart in full detail. However, the most punishing of its arsenal has undoubtedly been the ceaseless coughing that steals the very air from my lungs.
The simple act of communication has been usurped by this viral scourge, leaving me unable to host Instagram live sessions without succumbing to fits of coughing that drain my strength and disrupt the dialogue.
In this taxing time, my wife, Deana, has been stoically by my side. She is the anchor in my storm, nurturing and understanding, even as she recovers from her bout of illness that seems to have found renewed vigor.
Rest assured, the rhythms of the blog shall find their tempo once again in the coming week. There is much on the horizon that I am eager to share, and my work on the website continues unabated. I extend my heartfelt gratitude to all for your patience and understanding during this unforeseen intermission. Thank you.
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Episode 3
Welcome back to the fascinating world of photography and development in the latest episode of Coffee with Jefferson Davis. As we dive deep into the intricacies of film development, it’s evident that this segment is an essential guide for both enthusiasts and professionals in the field.
In this third installment, I’ve focused on a game-changing developer known as 510pyro. Through an in-depth comparison, I highlight why 510pyro stands out amongst a sea of film developers, shedding light on its unique properties that make it superior. The discussion doesn’t just stop at comparisons, however; I delve into the technical how-tos of using 510pyro, providing valuable insight gleaned from personal experience and extensive experimentation.
One of the compelling facets of 510pyro is its versatility. Whether you’re processing high-speed films or pushing your medium-format shots to their limits, 510pyro adapts beautifully, yielding results that are both consistent and impressively detailed. Its ability to enhance the grain structure and maximize acutance makes it an excellent choice for photographers seeking a distinctive look in their analog work.
The conversation takes a slight detour into the realm of politics, tying in how cultural shifts and technological advancements are influencing the world of film photography. It’s an interesting sidebar that connects the dots between our creative passions and the larger societal context they exist within.
Regrettably, this episode was out of sequence with the series due to a mishap on my part. Rest assured, this won’t be the norm moving forward. As we work to streamline the series, I’m thrilled to announce that future episodes will offer an audio-only option. This feature is a plus for those looking to save on bandwidth while still indulging in their passion for photography.
And the excitement doesn’t stop there. For fans eager to dive deeper into photographic artistry, keep an eye out for the upcoming Issues of my magazine, Purblind Illumination. This publication is yet another avenue to explore the nuances of imagery and artistic expression.
So, stay tuned and keep your subscription active to not miss out on any of these enriching discussions and future developments. Whether it’s through our podcast episodes or the pages of “Purblind Illumination”, the journey through the art of photography continues to both educate and inspire.
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The First Issue of Purblind Illumination
The arrival of the inaugural issue of “Purblind Illumination” in my mailbox was like a shaft of light piercing through the morning mist, courtesy of the diligent postman. The anticipation gave way to sheer delight as I admired the impressive tactile quality of the paper – its thickness, shadow detail, and the subtle sheen that seemed to caress each image.
Crafting this initial publication, I was intensely focused on the content as much as the aesthetics. The thickness and quality of the paper were not incidental. They were deliberate choices designed to showcase the photographs to their utmost potential. Each page was intended to be so much more than simply a part of a magazine—it was an individual frame-worthy print. It was essential that the visual stories I was telling appeared as I intended, fully embodying the narrative captured in that frozen moment of time.
Limited to 24 pages, the decision on brevity was as much an economic one as it was a qualitative one. Priced at an accessible $10 each, these pages are not merely to be flipped through, but to be pondered over, potentially even adorning the walls of those who appreciate the imagery as much as I do. To own a piece of “Purblind Illumination” is to possess a slice of artistic vision, one that could easily be mistaken for a standalone photograph in a frame.
Looking ahead, I envisage the evolution of subsequent issues. The current brevity will give way to a more elaborate narrative, where the imagery is complemented with background stories—texts that give insight into the captured moment. I aim to share the contemplations that preceded the click of the shutter, the accidental or painstakingly planned events that led to the final composition. This additional context will enrich the visual experience, providing a depth that completes the story each photograph intends to tell.
However, the crux of this venture battles against financial constraints. Maintaining affordability while producing a product of such high quality is a juggling act of sorts, with the commitment to keep the price below $20 an issue. This is not a lucrative endeavor; rather, it is one of passion and gratitude. Each magazine sold isn’t just a transaction; it is a meaningful exchange, support for my vision and lack thereof—quite literally—as I navigate the reality of my impending blindness.
I have previously confided about my vision; time is becoming a precious commodity, a dwindling resource. As I continue to document the world through my unique perspective, I will be seizing life, moment by moment, distilling it into a still image. The prognosis gives me a finite window of around two years of sight, during which I intend to pour my heart into this project.
While the future may see subtle tweaks to the format of “Purblind Illumination,” these changes will be inconsequential compared to the core of what the magazine represents—my lasting visual legacy, a testament to the beauty and poignancy of life as seen through my lens.
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Minolta SR-7 Comprehensive Review
In the vibrant and ever-evolving world of photography, it is not uncommon for enthusiasts to come across a piece of technology that stands the test of time. Such is the case of the magnificent Minolta SR-7, a camera that I reviewed back in July of 2023, which you can read about in my previous post. Since my initial review, my journey with the SR-7 has progressed, leading me to replace the deteriorating light seals—a small price to pay for the consistent performance of this vintage treasure.
The Minolta SR-7 is far more than just a camera—it’s a historical artifact. Cast yourself back to the year 1962, a period charged with the excitement of space exploration and the Kennedy administration, the SR-7 was introduced as the first 35mm SLR camera with a built-in CdS light meter, a feature that significantly simplified photography for professionals and hobbyists alike. Before the advent of integrated light meters, photographers relied on external devices, which they would have to purchase, frequently from local drugstores along with their film.
The significance of the SR-7’s contribution to photography is remarkable. It stands among influential models like the Pentax Spotmatic and other Canon and Nikon contemporaries, all of which played a role in the eventual demise of the standalone light meter market. Yet, companies like Sekonic persevered, carving out a niche that persists among certain professional and amateur photographers who seek the precision that these standalone devices offer.
Reflecting on my personal experience, acquiring the SR-7 was akin to unearthing hidden treasure. Its initial condition was far from immaculate—dirty, grimy, and non-functional. However, with some dedication and time spent on sprucing up the exterior, addressing the aged internal lubricant, and restoring the battery contacts, the camera sprang back to life. It was a humble yet deeply satisfying renaissance.
Equipped with the esteemed Minolta 58mm Rokkor-PF f/1.4 lens, a classic known for its exceptional sharpness at wide open apertures, the SR-7 doesn’t merely compete with modern lenses but may exceed many, thanks to the relative simplicity of its optical design. Below, I invite you to peruse a gallery showcasing shots from my inaugural roll of Kentmere 100 film taken through this lens.
The act of shooting with this camera in downtown Easley, near where I reside, was profoundly different from any digital experience. The SR-7 requires you to absorb the moment, peer down at the exposure meter, and make careful considerations before finalizing the composition and taking the photograph. This approach imparts a sense of mindfulness to the practice of photography—slowing down, contemplating, measuring, and then capturing the moment. It’s this deliberate pace that reshapes one’s perspective on photography.
Onlookers often approach me, their curiosity piqued by the distinct, vintage aesthetic of the camera that undoubtedly carries an “alien” appearance in contrast to modern devices. Using the SR-7 has been an immensely gratifying process, bathing in the nostalgia of the 1960s while creating timeless images.
For those who cherish the art of photography, who revel in the opportunity to try different angles and perspectives, securing a Minolta SR-7 on platforms like eBay or Etsy comes highly recommended. Owning this historic piece of photography is not just about owning a tool for image creation; it’s a journey through time, a homage to the craft, and a commitment to preserving and appreciating the feats of innovation that laid the groundwork for the luxuries of modern photography. It’s a decision I’ve made and not for a moment have I looked back in regret. The SR-7 not only deserves celebration; it demands to be used and prized.
