With the click of a button and the flip of a shutter, a fraction of a second has been elongated into infinity; a memory emulated within emulsion. Photography has enabled the child to become the creator and time to become a wanton scribble upon poloroids and pixels. This ever evolving science has allowed the past to become tangible and for the present to become undying.
Though the advent of the digital age has greatly advanced the speed and efficiency in which photographs can be produced, it's origins have been lost within it's own electric whir and buzz. The aesthetic of photography not only encompasses the ends but also the means by which those ends were produced. In my experience, analog photography is a more intimate experience with the user. Brain signals mingle with machine to produce evermore while fingers and gears interlace within a fuette of genesis. The Futurists believed that the bicycle was a perfect marriage between man and machine but did they not contemplate the analog camera? The relationship of sinew and dials with the odd pairing of the human eye and the lens is that of a Futurist's fantasy. Will we risk forgetting photography's prelude in search of it's prologue?