There aren’t really any sprockets if you use 120 film, of course. And I took a lot more photos with my phone than with my bright red plastic Holga. But if there were sprocket holes in the film in the Holga, then there would have been sand. That’s the kind of look I was after. That’s the kind of day that it was.
An autumn afternoon, a family (us) photographing each other for posterity. Or maybe because that’s just what one does to make a wilderness seem part of our digitised life, so we don’t feel that we’ve walked off the grid, out of the net. Or maybe art is a form of addiction.
Anyway, family photos today, the familiar. And one shot of strangers, who thought I was stranger still.
And no more words.