On the cusp of my birthday, I’m feeling introspective. Being (mostly) socially isolated has only exacerbated my inward pondering, of course, but with the summer heat loosening its grip, it seems like an appropriate time for reflection. I’m giving myself a gift this year… some time off. Taking the Covid restrictions in place, I am giving myself a mind-clearing road trip. Just me, my cameras, music on the stereo, and no destination. No time table. Just time to release, recharge, and reflect.

If we’ve learned anything this year, it is that nothing is predictable. There are always things that are out of your control. Cue the “Serenity Prayer.” I’m usually pretty good at rolling with the punches, even if deep down I relish comfort and convenience. Pertaining to my photography, what could be less comfortable and convenient than shooting some 4 x 5 film with a pinhole camera? Am I a glutton for punishment? Everything about the process is the antithesis of predictability and ease. You never know what you’re getting on the sheet of film, framing is a guessing game, exposure is a moving target, and then there is the joy of loading a developing tank and processing the sheets of film. I have knack for botching at least a sheet or two of film during the entire process.

This week I dragged my wooden box pinhole camera, a tripod, and a dozen film holders down to the bosque to shoot. I returned to the burn scar from a fire of several weeks back. The day was hot and humid, I was not dressed for the occasion, and I managed to not only scrape my leg on a burned tree branch, get bit on my sockless foot by something(?) but I also managed to jam my thumb in the tripod. Bleeding for my art, as a friend later said. The challenges continued when I returned home to develop the film. I inadvertently slid a few sheets of film into the same slot in the tank, causing them to stick together and unevenly develop. I decided to dry the sheets anyway, and scan them, too. And sometimes from the grips of failure comes a small victory.

I’m not 100% sure if the sheet was exposed twice, and the blotches of light and dark are surely the result of the stuck sheets of film. However, I absolutely love the final result. There is no way I could have planned this, nor would I be able to replicate it. So I’ll just leave this here as a reminder that in photography, as in life, nothing is predictable, but the capacity for happy accidents, for surprise, and for moments of unexpected joy still exist.

I’m still waiting for the bite on my foot to stop itching.