uo11
A slow notebook. Mostly film, mostly grey weather, occasionally a paragraph about something I have been reading. Updated whenever a roll comes back from the lab.
For two years I tried to get rid of it. Finer stock, slower film, a tripod I resented carrying. Then a lab technician pointed out that every picture I had pinned above the desk was grainy, and that I had been solving a problem nobody else could see. Grain is not noise. It is the texture of the thing that recorded the light, and removing it removes the evidence that anything was recorded at all.
The same four kilometres, roughly two hundred times. The argument for it is simple: when the route stops being interesting, you start noticing the light instead. Most of what I like was taken within a kilometre of home, in the fifteen minutes before the streetlamps come on.
Finished three unrelated books this month and they turned out to be arguing the same point from different corners: that attention is a practice rather than a resource. Notes below, loosely organised, probably wrong in places.