Scripted
I swear it feels like this life is scripted sometimes. A paint-by-numbers midlife crisis. A slowly decaying Rube Goldberg machine.
I turn 41 in two months, and I’ve suddenly developed an interest in photography. It’s a thing, apparently. Nostalgia, a creeping awareness of mortality, and a desire to preserve ordinary moments. The tangible aspect of 35mm film.
So, here I am in the dark, a belly full of Cafe Bustelo, looking up where to buy an Olympus 35 RC. I haven’t the slightest clue how to take a good picture, nor how to use a proper camera. Old dog, new tricks.