Why I still choose Film

There is something quietly sacred about film.

In a world that moves fast, clicks fast, delivers fast… film asks us to slow down. To breathe. To be present inside the moment instead of rushing past it. And that is where its magic lives. Some stories deserve to unfold a little more slowly.

The very first camera I ever picked up wasn't a digital one. It was a little 35mm film camera. Long before Echoes of Us existed, I found myself documenting the people I loved most. Family gatherings, afternoons in the backyard, little adventures, and the ordinary moments that often slip by unnoticed. I wasn't thinking about photography back then. I was simply trying to hold onto a feeling.

Some of my most treasured possessions are the photographs from my own childhood. They're grainy, imperfect and often out of focus, yet somehow they hold a feeling that's impossible to recreate. Looking through them doesn't just remind me what life looked like. It reminds me what it felt like.

I wanted my own children to have that.

So even today, I continue documenting our family life on film. Camping trips, messy afternoons, birthdays, quiet moments at home. The kinds of days that don't seem remarkable in the moment, but quietly become the memories we return to years later.

One of my favourite things to do is keep the negatives. Some are carefully tucked away, while others are displayed in little frames around our home. There's something incredibly special about seeing those tiny strips of film and knowing that every frame holds a moment we'll never live again. They become little pieces of our family history, just as meaningful to me as the photographs themselves.

Over the years, I've realised that film has quietly shaped the way I see the world. It taught me to slow down, to notice the little things, and to trust that the ordinary moments are often the ones we'll treasure most…

Even though I now photograph professionally with digital cameras, I still find myself reaching for film. It reminds me where this journey began, and why I fell in love with preserving memories in the first place.

Maybe that's what draws me back to it, roll after roll.

Not the nostalgia. The intention.

The quiet reminder that today's ordinary moments are quietly becoming tomorrow's most treasured memories.