a taste of my week long escape to the east coast. unfortunately the sample is small, despite the dozens of other adventures had and sights seen. about ten minutes into a kayaking expedition with my camera sandwiched between my legs, the poor guy quit on me, leaving me empty handed for the last four days of my trip. yet, while i mourned the loss for an hour or so, it opened me up to a sort of new freedom of experience--freedom to go, do, see, without the nagging, self-inflicted pressure to capture and document everything in front of me. instead, i enlisted the rusty neurons and synapses in my brain and made memories--ones that only exist inside my head and the heads of the people i was privileged to spend time with. it was nice and for a moment or two, i considered abandoning film and photos forever..until today when the friendly man at walgreens informed me politely that my camera was not broken, the batteries had just died. good work, emma.

 

 

Its nice when your best friend comes home from being in Africa for two years and sweeps you off your feet again. even better when he does it in portuguese.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"A man in the village told us that it is a part of their culture to be happy. I want to stay here forever." -journal entry July 18th, 2006

My first experience with film occurred six years ago this month as I backpacked across Botswana and Zambia with my closest friend Tim and 13 other students from my high school. As a naive, careless and somewhat accident prone 15-year old, I was forbidden to take our family's digital camera (new technology at the time) and instead got sent across the world with 10 rolls of film and a bulky black bag with a bulky black camera inside it. Despite the countless times I complained about hauling the heavy pack around, or about not being able to spend the night reviewing the day's pictures with my teammates, I now cherish the candid photos I collected during my summer in Africa. Take me back!