It's all shit : Wednesday, Jan. 08, 2003 @ 3:02 pm

For the first time ever I did not want to be in the dark room. I spent 5th period in the dark room, wasting photography paper (think 25 cents per paper. Yea, so I was raised by a frugal bastard and it rubbed off). I re did my bear photo, to get rid of the dust in hopes to pass it in for a grade. I got rid of one piece of dust and another one was added. Is it possible to make a print without getting dust on it? I use a dust cloth, I blow on it lightly, I keep it stored in plastic sheets... it's so frustrating. Then, I tried to print a few of Kate, but I got so fucking frustrated. The first one the depth of field was too shallow for me to get it too look right (can't be fixed in dark room, to my knowledge). The second one I had to use a dark room filter for the first time (3.5 filter) which was irritating as hell because my teacher (if you've read previous entries, you know this) doesn't teach so I wasn't informed that with a filter I'd have to up the exposure a bit, so I wasted a print on that (though, if I had been thinking I probably could have come to that conclusion myself). Then on the second print of that image, the filter (which I had carefully cleaned previously) had this uncleanable blot on it... and so on and so on. Imagine things like this (dust, filter bull shit, etc, but mostly dust) happening over and over again, until you'd used roughly 12 papers ($3) for four different prints. I take them out of the dryer, shuffle through them and I can't help but think that every one of them is shit. My work is shit why the hell do I bother with ambition? Disgusted with myself, I left for lunch with the thought that I should give up my day dreams of a carear as a photographer and become a high school history teacher.
That won't happen, of course. Tomorrow I'll be all sappy and in love with photography again. The smell of dark room chemicals will again romance me and the feeling of the camera in my grasp will once again rival the feeling of a woman's curves against mine.
(Of course, that last bit may be because I haven't felt a woman's curves in so long that the memory must be dimming.)

Homework must be attended to, unfortunetly. Forgive me for any and all spelling errors, no time to run spell check.
/A
music: OK Go- Hello My Treacherous Friend
mood: disgusted<0>

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