delayed gratification

Sometime in 1999, after the sun had bleached all the wildflowers from even the highest slopes, I ran up Mount Timpanogos for the second time. Given that Mt. Timpanogos is the second tallest peak of the Wasatch Range and I'm not completely mad, it's not quite correct to speak of running. But it felt like it. The day hike is long and relentless and it seemed as if we never stopped.

I had done the same hike a year earlier, freshly arrived in the wilderness of Utah and rather clueless. A bunch of Mormons had taken me on, friendly fellows eager to share their way of life. That day, their way of life included sandals up to nearly 12,000 feet, flying down I-15 in the bed of a pickup truck, and root beer floats. I can't say anymore which was worst. The days back then were so full of novelty that each one felt like a week, and stimuli piled up without much processing.

The second summer, I was with international students, my company for the next five years. I remember Luis who had just purchased a camera from a pawn shop. This was before everyone defaulted to eBay. The camera was a Canon AE-1 Program, a classic by some accounts. To me it just looked beautiful, features pared down to the essential, no faff, just a few knobs and buttons and a good lens.

I envied Luis his camera. As it often is with this feeling, it wasn't rationally explainable. But I wanted one. I think I went to pawn shops myself once or twice, but I wasn't lucky. Then I got distracted and when I looked again, a Nikon appeared on my radar that was bigger, clunkier and arguably more powerful. I loved it, but I never forgot about the AE-1 P.

The Nikon is long gone, but my desire has remained. So the other day in Munich when I found myself in front of a used camera dealer, I hit it hard. I walked out with a little dream come true.

Canon AE-1 Program

Now the question is what to do with it. I've bought some Ilford film. That was easy. Black-and-white is the only option. I can probably use the darkroom at Imperial. But what to shoot?

That's actually easy too. My fascination for dereliction, industrial decline and corroding steel can probably be married successfully to black-and-white photography. The walk I did a while ago and only now managed to document, illustrates what I mean – even though on that particular walk, color was better for most photos.