The thing I love most about my instant camera is how washed out and faded the pictures look. Like a memory. Like a dream.
When we visited the beach several weeks ago, I happily snapped pictures like a tourist and tucked the little pictures inside my sweatshirt pocket, not even worrying about what any of them looked like.
Then as we got in the car and drove away, I held them in my hands. That's the thing you lose with digital. You get used to staring at pictures on a screen. You forget what it's like to hold an image in your hand. It's like holding onto a dream.
They aren't good photos. They aren't clear and sharp. But neither are memories - especially those tinged in a veil of nostalgia.
But the thing I love most, is that you have to anticipate moments.
You can't just wildly shoot and hope you'll get something you like. Each pack of film has only 10 images. They are few. They are precious. And you have to wait and watch. You have to really see.
And when you're done, you're rewarded with a tiny stack of memories that you can hold in your hand.