i’d been neglecting my point and shoot after it’d stopped working. the roll was in the camera for a good half a year, until i finally checked the task off my list and took it to a shop in vienna. the film was jammed.
i developed the roll, which had broken into two pieces. what i got back were familiar sceneries glossed over in an unfamiliar hue.
over the past few months, the months the film has lived in my camera, it almost feels like i had grown to be a different person within the same body. i didn’t even know id be living in vienna in half a year. i had held value in different things than i do now, and my vision is skewed in a different way than it was.
maybe it was just how they developed it. maybe it was the film itself. but i no longer saw the same things i saw, and i no longer feel the same things i felt in summer. we see the same things but we get something different out of it. i don’t know how she saw these moments. i recognize them, but i don’t feel the way she felt anymore.
who i was feels like a distant friend.
the very reason i began shooting film was documentation. it derived from the fear of time passing.
someone had pointed out that i am obsessed with my past. everything that i saw, everything that i felt. i wanted a piece of those sensations in a tangible form to remember. i don’t allow it to slip away like it’s supposed to.
i thought that holding onto these fragments of time had allowed me to relive what i felt. maybe i’ve recognized this habit of mine that i’d lived with for a long time, and now it’s letting itself go before i can allow it to.
i’d felt relived coming here. i’d been comforted by the new atmosphere.
this bit of tokyo was a face i’d never seen before.