There is something special about film.

A faith in permanence.

Exposing silver to light for a split second through a slit behind a lens. Dancing with the primordial soup. These photons have fallen and excited this silver grass.

There's a Bright Eyes song that goes "And on the way home, held your camera like a bible." Everybody wants their own bible, something to measure the world against.

Pulling a roll of film from a reel you've just soaked in developer is an exercise in faith, patience, and vision. These slices of three dimensions that you've collapsed into two carry with them the intention of whales.

Like the high school kid with the sharpie in Anis Mojhgani's poem, "I was here, and ain't none of y'all can write that in the same spot that I just wrote it in."