There’s something special about it, that nothing in this electric world could change it for the better. A spark of vintage goodness, lighting his way up to a roll filled with chemicals in a black box for literally fractions of a second. A black box itself indeed, enclosed surprises reviled only hours, if not days after the actual action of releasing the shutter. And that’s the beauty of it; nowadays we’re so used to have everything, everywhere, at any moment of our lives, acknowledging an immediate result faster than our brain could even process it. Therefor, an escape to our crazy fast moving world is needed. A present that is always running, running away from a past that we just lived, a past so little that blends into the present itself; so this, this setback allows us to put things in perspective.

The joy when finally the day comes, it feels like a Christmas morning, and that lost feeling is one of the greatest of all.

That’s how I love to think about film cameras, the knowing and at the same time not knowing of what a picture you just made is. Kind of like the Schrodinger’s cat paradox, applied into our amazing photography world.

So it started, few weeks ago I decided to go out for a walk in East London with only one camera, and that was my beloved film Yashica FX-3, loaded with an expired Ilford HP5.

An area of London I wasn’t aware of it yet, a great place for lots of photographic inspirations … Industrial design mingled with futuristic cityscapes, how could have I missed this spot for so long? I am such a huge fan of industrial design abandoned kinda places, and yet it got me full surprised of what I found by the Thames barrier, in a city I was convinced to know every sight of.

A great walking discovery of 19 shots, that I hope y’all will enjoy. FilmRoll