Rekindling the virtue of patience through film
I still remember the first photo I have ever taken with my camera, it was a portrait of the sales assistant at Henry’s on Hidalgo Street in Quaipo, Manila. A middle-aged man stared directly into the lens of the camera, his eyes weary but his smile wide and genuine, always ready to serve. I have since deleted that photo, but the gust of emotions I felt from pressing the shutter button stayed with me through the years. The feeling of excitement and fear embraced my body as if it was a shirt one size too small. ‘Am I doing it right? This is my first camera’, I said loudly to Manong tindero, hoping to convey this overflowing sense of ecstasy and relinquish any assumptions of expertise. That camera, a Canon 550D, became the only constant in my life that was full of inconsistencies and instability. I traveled with it in all cities I have been, from Zurich to Kathmandu. I have captured countless of faces of people I will never meet again, places I would like to revisit and most of all, memories that I will never forget.
Photography became my sanctuary, a hobby that filled my days with purpose. When depression peaked in 2019, even that little sparks of joy was stripped away. My camera gathered dust, used only occasionally to capture bland images of my room. The spark had faded sadly.
By 2025, I decided it was time to retire that old 550D. I bit the bullet and upgraded to a Canon R10, despite the ubiquitous black dog telling me it would just sit on the drawer for years again. To my surprise, a new hobby emerged, birdwatching. And with it, a renewed sense of happiness whenever I spotted one of these feathered creatures. Yet it was not until I picked up my first film camera that an old flame reignited within me, the flame that I did not know was still there.
I was hesitant at first, doubting whether I would really use the camera and feeling the purchase was a waste of money. My partner convinced me to get it as we wandered through the night market. The learning curve was steep, especially for someone who, despite taking photos for about 10 years, did not have a full grasp of the exposure triangle. And indeed, my first roll of film was a disaster! It turned out all black. I could have given up then. I could have packed the camera and sold it to someone more skilled than me. But to hell with that! I persisted driven by my desire to learn. Along with this comes the liberating acceptance of unpredictability which highlights the unique qualities that each shot possesses. There and then, my second attempt showed significant improvement.
There is an indescribable joy in seeing your photos materialised after what felt like an eternity of waiting in agony. It was at this moment when I came into the realisation that film photography became more than just a hobby for me. It became a symphony of craftmanship and patience, a much needed virtue in this day and age where speed is rewarded, creating a loop of instant gratification that takes more than it gives. In a world of Amazon same day delivery and Midjourney, film photography offers a formidable counterpoint. It demands us time, attention and above all, discipline to divorce uncertainty from the notion of failure. It taught me that there is beauty in imperfection and to appreciate the journey as much the destination. With this, I began to see film not just an opportunity for growth but as an antithesis to human’s relentless pursuit of digital convenience at the expense of the tangible connection to reality. Film teaches us the lost art of patience, where time itself refuses to be surrendered to the disposables. Each roll of film is a commitment, a promise to see the process through until the very end to reap what I sow.
There are times in our lives where we feel that the flicker of hope has abandoned us and we are left standing in the ashes, ready to surrender. But just as we cross the threshold of resignation, life shouts back at us with a deafening whisper. One day, I may return to Henry's old shop, not with the heavy heart filled of nostalgia but with new purpose: to reclaim the joy that once eluded me.
