In keeping the business of The Severis Tales to itself, I feel there is another topic of conversation. It is a bit of a ramble, but I needed it off my mind.
I was born in an analog world. When I was growing up in the late 80s and 90s, IBM-compatible computers were becoming common in homes and schools, but not everywhere. I had Commodores and such as a kid, but I never owned a proper computer until 1998, and I never needed to rely on one back then. As well, I never had a mobile phone. They weren’t common enough. The payphone was the answer to calling from abroad.
In place of a computer were the early gaming console systems, the NES, the Super NES, my Gameboy, the Sega Genesis and its Sega CD add-on. Even my Atari 2600. That was a major part of my childhood, including the original ReBoot, Bill Nye the Science Guy, and who could forget Beakman’s World? Oh yes, the 90s were great.
With audio, I grew up with records and early CDs and cassette tapes in glorious mono audio or a stereo stack. I could listen to mono audio, no problem. The grumpy old fart that I am, I have a disdain for surround sound. It isn’t natural to me. It feels wrong.
Why am I going on about this? Well, I have an odd but unbreakable connection to the past. For me, everything was better. I grew up with the graphics of the NES and the music, and they are dear to me. I discovered a box of old photographs, slides and even Kodak Disc film developed by Black’s Photography that harken back to the days of youth, even before I was born.
There is something about old colour photos from the 70s and early 80s that go beyond nostalgia, beyond retaining memories. The warm color temperature of the photos, the snapshots of that period in time—I can’t explain it, but it seems more “real” or “vivid” than modern digital photos. It sometimes strikes an emotional chord in me, and I don’t know why.
Late in the year 2021, this bond remains strong. And that is why I bought a new Polaroid camera.
Back in the day, we would take a load of pictures on 110 film cartridges and mail them in a Sooter’s film envelope and mail them off. We would wait patiently for the 4×6 photos to come back. At least, I think it was Sooter’s.
In the early 90s, my parents gave me a Polaroid OneStep Close Up for possibly my eighth birthday. Now, if you know anything about Polaroid film, it is expensive. It still is to this day. Anyway, it gave me the opportunity to shoot pictures (when I could get packs). In front of my inexperienced eyes, I watched the picture develop and show off that vintage Polaroid flair you don’t find anywhere else. The 110 and Polaroid cameras cemented the connection to the past, a way to look back in time and still feel as if you were a part of it.
I always loved Polaroids. I knew the company had restarted to continue producing film, but Polaroid came back with new technology and packs, including the 600 series, to make your old Polaroid camera work again. With new film packs for my old OneStep Close Up and my new Now+ camera, I am ready to revel in the joy and nostalgia it once brought me, much like how those old 8 and 16-bit games do today.
I always had an interest in amateur photography, mainly nature, landscape and cityscape photography. Polaroids nowadays are a niche part of the business, but still unique in that each photo is a snapshot of that moment, a snapshot where there is only one photograph. It isn’t digital or a film negative where you can develop the hell of out of it and produce hundreds of the same picture. You can do that with Polaroids and scan them to the computer (which some do to upload to image sharing sites to share with others around the world) but reproducing them feels like a bit of a con.
Why did I ramble on about this?
That connection to the young days can be a substantial source of pride and inspiration. I suppose it depends on how and where you grew up, but it is a solid fact of life, nonetheless. To shoot in a vintage format is both well-rewarding and expresses the fact that not everything digital is all grand and fantastic. Sometimes, the old-fashioned approach is the best approach. Maybe it’s because I’m a grumpy old man who longs for the 90s; but with things like Polaroids, a stereo stack and my NES, at least I can in part make that dream come true.