Most recently, it’s been shooting on film. Just days before I left for Burning Man, I ordered a replacement for my Aunty Joy’s Olympus OM-2. I had shot with her camera for years before it was stolen more than 20 years ago, though I still held onto a few of her lenses. With the replacement in hand, I decided to dedicate time on Playa to shooting film. Part of it was to slow down, but mostly it was to reconnect with why I first fell in love with photography—the process itself.

Loading the camera with film. Advancing the roll by hand. That click of the shutter release. Later, developing the negatives and printing in a darkroom, as I used to when I lived in San Francisco in the ’90s. The whole process is tactile, mechanical, intentional. As a professional photographer, digital is a necessity, but for personal projects, I’ll do a combination of digital and film. I want film and darkroom printing to become part of my practice again.

This was the first roll of film I’d shot in over 20 years. Over the first two days, I exposed only 50 frames—careful, deliberate—only two shots were of the same subject. A few times I used my smartphone as backup, just in case. It took a couple of days to get the negatives back, and I was more than pleased. The majority of them turned out beautifully. They’re not sharp in the way digital images are, and many were taken in low light under partial clouds. But that’s the point. I’m enjoying the grain, the softness, the atmosphere. Film carries a mystique that digital can’t replicate.