Shooting on film slows everything down. There's no preview screen, no infinite frames — just twenty-four or thirty-six chances to get it right, and a waiting period before you even know if you did. That limitation changes how I see: every frame has to earn its place before the shutter ever clicks.

I keep coming back to film for what it doesn't let me control — the grain, the way light burns into an emulsion instead of a sensor, the small imperfections that no filter could fake. It connects me to a slower, more deliberate version of this craft, one frame at a time, with a texture that feels earned rather than generated.