A Film Mindset

Lessons from film • Photography challenge and writing prompt #AFilmMindset

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Film feels special. I sift through the old photographs my dad took of us, and they all have a fuzzy, warm, magical glow. Yes, my dad had an interest in photography—but was he a master of the craft? No. Yet there’s something that draws me in.

I used to look for myself in these photographs, but today I’m looking deeper. I search my parents’ eyes. I wonder what they were thinking and feeling. Today, as a mom, I see myself in their photographs—in their loving gazes, their gentle hands, and their bright smiles.

27 years ago, my parents immigrated from South Korea to the States with a few months worth of living expenses, four suitcases, and a four-month-old. They had just celebrated my beck-il, a newborn’s 100th day celebration, and moved away from their family and home to the other side of the globe. It’s hard to comprehend that they were only one or two years older than me and my husband today. Though we weren’t rich in money, my parents filled our days richly in love, joy, and peace.

The toddler in the photographs is adorable as she crinkles her nose, but the real reason I find her lovable is because she makes me think of my toddler and the same way she crinkles her nose. Life today with my husband and daughter is just as rich in love, joy, and peace as life years ago with my parents and brother.

Or is it?

Life now is more modern and not as slow, more public and not as humble. Today, my dad’s film camera that used to take only 36 photographs—all thoughtfully taken—no longer works. Instead we have phone cameras at our fingertips snapping ten photographs every second to get the perfect shot. Today, photographs are not just printed in family albums to document life. They are often posted on the internet to join photographs of strangers who always seem to have more beautiful lives than us.

We have more than what my parents had, and we have it earlier: degrees, babies, paychecks. But I still find myself wanting more—and wanting it soon: answers to prayers about family and questions about futures; a home to settle down in with complementary furniture and decor; aesthetic photographs documenting me, my family, and my art at their best.

Let’s skip the ugly ducking stages and speed up the process.

Pretty please?

//

In the photograph, I am my mom’s mini-shadow as she washes the dishes (or cooks—probably concurrently) in the kitchen. Her face can’t be described as a smile, and I’m hiding from the photographer’s eye behind the toys in my hands.

The kitchen is also caught off guard. It missed the memo that strangers from the future reading this essay would be visiting today. Nothing matches.

Today, I stare at the wooden cabinets in the photograph. Houses on the market these days with cabinets like these would be renovated.

On those old cabinets over the sink are papers with handwritten words taped at eye-level. It’s too grainy to read the text, but I easily recognize the strings of words as Bible verses.

In another photograph, my mom is my chair as we smile sweetly at the camera. Our hands are neatly folded, and this photograph looks more planned. It’s probably a Sunday because we’re both dressed up. She’s in all black; I’m in all pink with a giraffe on my left knee.

Today, I’m a detective making hypotheses about the scene at the time. “Hands by your belly button,” my parents probably said. My mom tilted her head slightly left and charmed my dad, who crouched on one knee to capture the portrait.

In the image, the photographs taped to the wall are framed by cheap, highlighter-color paper we used for art and crafts. It’s hard to nail anything into an apartment you know you’ll leave eventually. The light from the small window illuminates a slice of the carpet, and there are miscellaneous objects all over the ground. The laundry hangs dry behind the dining table in the background.

The distance between the lone chair we are sitting on and the table to which it belongs tells me this photo was organized, but nothing else seems to have been cleaned up and pushed out of the frame.

//

I never noticed these details before, but today I keep scavenging each photograph for mess. At times the subjects look unflattering. None of the furniture nor home decor matches. But there are signs of life. I search the clutter, the “blemishes,” to find loving pieces of our home and history. I give the hidden treasures my attention, and in return they offer grace and contentment.

//

I listen to fellow creative moms confess they are critics of their houses, and this makes it hard to enjoy photography in their homes. They vocalize and magnify my own hibernating desires, and I’m hit in the head. Beauty.

The distance from the “perfect” standards to our reality—it reminds me of when I used to stare at photographs of myself in college zoning in on parts of my body I wished were skinnier. Years later, I would see the same photograph and think, I was beautiful then. Why was I so critical of myself?

The definition of beauty in my young mind was distorted. I thought I had a healthier relationship with the standard of beauty now, but I realize, it’s not just body image that needs to be redefined. Idyllic beauty in my art, my home, my family—though I may seek it, may the pursuit never be at the cost of losing what’s more important.

//

When I peer through the viewfinder and feel the weight of my camera in my hands, I am looking for the best way to frame and lock in the scene. Photography requires constant reframing, and so does my mind. I study the photographs that my parents took, and I think about why film feels special.

Film allows space to…

• Find freedom in the process. Simplify and slow down. Learn to wait. Be present and intentional with my priority and focus.

• Experiment with my creativity. Follow my artist's intuition. Trust it. Let go of perfection and recalibrate beauty. Appreciate life in the unplanned.

• Pursue the craft while being content. Give thanks. Enjoy life first and the art I create from it second.

My “film mindset” is inspired by film photography, but it’s about more than just technical awareness. Having a “film mindset” means being conscious of love in the waiting, joy in the imperfections, and peace in the gratitude. In the same way my parents modeled both the process and the photography, I will show my children days of waiting, imperfections, and gratitude.

//

I sift through the old film photographs my dad took of us, and they all have a fuzzy, warm, magical glow. Each image captures a second in our lives; each vignette reveals a unique puzzle piece of our story. Something draws me in. It must be—I’m rediscovering life with all of its love, joy, peace—and beauty.

A Film Mindset

A roll of film has up to 36 photos. You have to wait for the moment you really want to capture, and you wait again to see what you’ve actually photographed. And then, like in any kind of photography, you get to wait again until the moment in the future when the photo captures you once again.

For The Photographers

Introducing A Film Mindset Photography Challenge!

I have thousands of unorganized images sitting on my phone and digital camera. Many of them are repeats with minute differences, and most will be lost in time due to decision fatigue. What would happen if I applied a film mindset to my digital photography? Let’s find out together! This challenge is perfect for anyone like me, who is excited about film cameras but has no or little experience with them.

Goals:

1. Practice and improve your photography by being intentional with each photo.

2. Experiment with how a film mindset changes how you prepare for, take, edit, and see your digital photos. (Digital can mean phone, DSLR, mirrorless, etc.)

Reminder: This is a fun, creative challenge. The most important thing is to follow the spirit of the challenge. Feel free to personalize it!* There is no rule against using some of the benefits of digital photography if they will help give you courage to do the challenge. I’ve enjoyed loosely applying a film mindset to my photography for a few months now, and this month will be my first time trying to stick to the guidelines.

Guidelines:

1. Take up to 36 photos for your “film mindset roll.”

2. Wait to view the photos until you’ve taken all 36 photos. (It may be a little tricky to completely avoid peeking if you need to count how many photos you have left—but do your best.)

3. Batch edit the whole "film roll" with one preset. (Maybe allow yourself a few minor edits for a few favorites.)

*You choose: how long you give yourself to complete this challenge, whether you use only your selected digital “film mindset” camera until the challenge is over or you give yourself freedom to “pick up your ‘film mindset’ camera” at any moment between the normal way you use your camera(s), whether you give yourself a few extra test shots or stick to the hard rule of 36 photos only with no real-time feedback, whether you do a lot of photo editing, etc, etc.

For The Writers

Introducing A Film Mindset Writing Prompt!

In the essay above, I shared how a “film mindset” affects how I look at and describe the details of a scene. I included “photo studies” of two photographs from my childhood in my writing. Now it’s your turn!

Guidelines:

Pick an “imperfect” photograph you love. Do a photo study. Capture the scene in words with a keen detective’s eyes. Show the unplanned accidents, and why you still love the image. How does the photograph reframe beauty?

How to Share

If you decide to share your “film roll” or “photo study,” feel free to use #AFilmMindset and link your post in the comments below. This way, participants can find and enjoy what you’re sharing.

Please tag my Instagram and link back to this post. Something along the lines of the following would be great:

Joining #AFilmMindset photography challenge / writing prompt by @jinheefilm! Read more about it at jinhee.substack.com.