Our lives are now easier than ever as a result of our commitment to simplification and automation. We have frantically chased efficiency. Jobs once occupied by people are now in the hands of machines. Processes that took hours are now faster by ten folds. Our books have become swallowed by our digital devices.

Consequently, we have also become more result oriented than ever. There is always a goal or an objective and we aim to be more efficient in order to reach it. We want to produce faster to make more profit. We digitize everything for the sake of it being more convenient.

Has all this simplification, efficiency and result orientedness had consequences? We could go around in circles, arguing one or the other about what we have lost, what we could lose, what the downfalls were.

Instead, I’d rather focus on what we could gain if we were to move away from this obsession over efficiency and objective and instead become friends with processes that were once not considered “tedious” or “unproductive.” For perhaps finding an activity, any activity, that allows us to move away from this obsession with efficiency is a recipe for joy and reflection.

Photo Courtesy of Riko Morisawa

For me, film photography has been representative of such an activity. In a world where we can take high quality pictures with our little iPhones, even a DSLR may seem unnecessary. Power on, point, click. With that, you’ve created an image. You can look back at it instantly, and if you don’t like your angle, you delete and repeat.

Film cameras do none of that. Without light, it is merely a useless object. You have no clue if that image is clear and well lit until you develop it. Yet, even at that step, you could lose all your photos if they become exposed to light. It is frail, inconvenient and limited, to say the least.

Photo Courtesy of Riko Morisawa

But there is something special about the process. What could be a simple click becomes a whole adventure. You are forced to be meticulous, and to wonder: How will this translate into a black and white image? What deserves to be in this frame? You have the power to control the details, and so you are attentive to them. You start to see things you have never cared to see before.

In fact, every step of creating an image with these relics opens your eyes to something new. This need not be confined to the technical, like finding out how a camera captures reality, translates it into a small roll of film and projects it as an image.

Photo Courtesy of Riko Morisawa

It could be the simple excitement of not remembering what memories you captured. You look back at these moments once all 36 of your frames are shot and developed, and by then, these fragments of your life will be well in the past. They are pieces to reminisce over and to reflect on. What details are there that you missed in reality?

It could also open your eyes to your own qualities. I once realized that it was 2 a.m. and I was still in the darkroom, changing the exposure for the 16th time. I’m quite stubborn, but patient too.

Photo Courtesy of Riko Morisawa

I have come to realize that this is my way of slowing down — by slowing my memories down. They sleep in the little roll until they are dumped in chemicals and finally revealed. I cherish these fragments of what I saw or experienced because they are raw, unedited and most of the time, forgotten. So I find myself looking at each picture, one by one, remembering where they were taken, what conversations I was having. What was I feeling? Oftentimes, these images vividly revive the moment, sparking a little bit of joy in me every time I come across them.

Photo Courtesy of Riko Morisawa

Of course, not everyone wants to shoot pictures on old cameras and reminisce over them. But I do believe finding something where you can grapple with the process, slow down and really fall in love is a favor to yourself, especially in the fast paced world we live in. Sometimes easier and faster isn’t better. Just as for me, digital is no better in the purpose film serves me. So take your time with something, anything — so long as it is for you.