The Squeaky Robot

A Meddling Robot in a Human's World

Posts tagged “Nikon FM

The New Beat

Posted on March 23, 2013

John Clellon Holmes once said, “Everywhere the Beat Generation seems occupied with the feverish production of answers—some of them frightening, some of them foolish—to a single question: how are we to live?” Holmes was a kind of wrangler of his wayward band of brothers – Kerouac, Ginsberg, and Cassady. He collected and compiled all holy data equally induced by drugs and existential despair to document and thus immortalize the claudicant enlightenments of his lost thinkers. And that’s what it was all about; the beatniks occupied themselves solely with the single most relevant question of any person’s life: how are we to live? In this way, we are all beatniks. No one’s experience or story counts for more than any other, just as no one…

Gratuitous Photo Dump//Nikon FM

Posted on May 4, 2012

After a month-long nerve-wracking misadventure with my Nikon FM, I finally see a finished product. Film photography is dying medium, but I’m still thrilled to use it. This camera has shaved years off my life just from sheer stress, but the feeling of seeing these photos materialized feels too good; the weight on my shoulders is alleviated, I breathe easier. I think I have a problem. Cherry Blossom Festival, 2012. Ten minutes before I took this, the painter said that someone stole one of his paintings that was leaning against a nearby tree. He was fuming, and the last thing he probably wanted was for someone to steal another one of his images with a camera. A photo of the paints will have to…

Adventures of an Amateur Photographer with an Obsolete Camera

Posted on March 16, 2012

The trials of the enigmatic Nikon FM continue. It became apparent that the film inside the camera had ripped. My sister diagnosed this in a dark closet. She determined the chances that all the pictures would survive to be small. I called my mother – the photo queen – in desperation and she said she would salvage them; it’s her camera, after all, and she’s been dealing with roadblocks like these for thirty years. We returned to inside the closet, a wardrobe so dark I couldn’t see my hand inches away from my face. She declared the problem solved, I cheered, we exited, and opened the camera in the light. It turned out that the film had completely detached from its casing, and the…