I suck at photography but love using film

There’s something magical about shooting on film. The soft grain, the unpredictable light leaks, the imperfectly perfect nature of each shot. It feels raw, real—almost like you’re capturing a moment as it actually existed, rather than how a digital sensor wants it to look. The irony? I’m absolutely terrible at photography.

I’m the person who lines up a shot, convinced it’s going to look cinematic, only to get the film back and realise I somehow managed to frame it in the least interesting way possible. I’ll underexpose an entire roll. I’ll forget to wind it on properly and ruin half the shots. But despite my lack of skill, there’s something about the process that keeps me hooked.

Maybe it’s the way film slows you down. With digital, it’s too easy to fire off hundreds of shots and hope for the best. With film, every frame counts. You have to think about composition, light, and timing in a way that forces you to actually engage with what you’re shooting. And sure, I still get it wrong more often than not, but when I do get it right—when the light hits just right, or the grain gives something an extra bit of character—it feels like pure magic.

I think that’s what keeps me coming back to it. It’s not about being a great photographer; it’s about the experience. The thrill of not knowing exactly what you’ve captured until you get the scans back. The happy accidents. The tangible nature of film that makes every shot feel more real than a crisp, high-resolution digital image ever could.

So, yeah, I suck at photography. But I love using film. And maybe that’s enough.