A Few Thoughts On...posterity

There were times in our lives when getting together with friends whose routes in life rarely intersected was more prevalent than it is now. One of my good friends--and former college classmate and roommate--was heavy into photography. He shot for fun; he shot for school. First, on film, then, after a lengthy hiatus from the artistry, with a swift digital camera. Joe had accrued several canisters of our memories on film he never developed. Last weekend, he visited his parents in Lancaster--about 30 minutes from the not-as-small-as-it-used-to-be town where we grew up. Hidden in a forgettable, yet accessible, corner of his folks' newest abode, Joe retrieved a handful of those aging rolls of film.

Praise for the ease and immediacy of digital photography abounds, but there is something indescribable about film--the hues, the unintentional haze, the short lived shapes of exhaled smoke, the innocence of an untampered moment. Film is tangible timelessness. And it makes me smile with sadness.

Below are a few frames that he developed, scanned, and posted on his photoblog; they were taken, from my best guest, around the early 2000s, when many of us came home to party and relax over holiday breaks during college. Some, like Kyle (the bloke in the nostalgically revealing portrait flipping off the camera), migrated in from the west coast for days at a time. I can't wait until we all share the same room again.

(Unless you know me and/or any of the dudes in these slides, this is likely a skippable entry.)

Joe's photoblog.


(Andrew after sifting through Marty McFly's wardrobe)


(Kyle, fresh off the plane from San Diego. He split a month after graduation and has been there ever since...that was in 1999.)


(me w/a 12, Jordan on the bongo, Kyle on the 6)


(me, banging around)