Photo of the Day – guy aceto photo

A somewhat daily peak into the archives.

Old film, fresh eyes

Just because the package says “expired” doesn’t mean you should keep it out of a camera.

There’s still film in my fridge and the camera was sitting on a shelf saying “C’mon … load me up and see what happens.” I still like that mystery between the camera and those chemicals that attract light, slathered across a thin sheet of plastic (or anything for that matter, if you’re so adventurous).

The beat up old Tamiya Sekor 500DTL is the camera I took to art school in Pittsburgh in 1976. Sucker weighs a ton. The film is nearly as old, Kodak Plus-X Pan, older than I probably think it is. Still worth loading up and stepping out to see if I still know my way around an f-stop.

Barber’s Grill on Main Street of my hometown of Brockport, New York, has been sitting on that same corner for over 100 years, still pouring pints and tossing a basket of wings.

**Barber’s Grill** Brockport, NY **Kodak Plus X Pan** film, expired in 1981.

Today we live ten minutes from the beach along the Chesapeake Bay. It’s a great place to dump the stress of the day, grab a little summer tan and watch fishing boats bring back something for dinner.

Don’t Stop Shooting

When I brought the camera up to my face I realized I was capturing something I didn’t expect.

I’ve been to mainland China twice, both times for the adoption of each of my daughters. During one trip we were driven out to the place where my 8-month-old had been taken care of. The orphanage, er. “Social Welfare Institute,” was a curious building out on the edge of town. After the four-hour plus ride in a small bus we were proudly shown where the children were cared for, their sturdy wooden cribs, a spotless kitchen, and a room that was frankly, a little ‘empty.’

The staff were happy to see us and were pleased to let us take pictures. I began shooting and as the faces of the kids fell into focus, I was struck by some of their expressions. They were curious about this crowd of odd-looking people snapping away desperate to take the images they’d show their children when they grew up. The photos were stark, and the faces of the kids spoke volumes, a little sad, wondering. what was going on. Just why were all these people here looking at them and then … walking away.

“Are ya ready for more?”

I’ve been lucky enough to stand on the press riser a few times. It’s a “special” kind of photography. Elbow to elbow with a few other photographers, careful not to step on toes both physically and metaphorically. A darkened hall, you’re at the mercy of the lighting guy to give you what you need. I have a huge amount of respect for those who crawl around a pit in front of a stage and kept their fingers crossed for something the editor likes to make the next deadline. Three songs, you get three songs.