to bend bamboo

I shall write something longer in the morning. It grows late and I am weary from finding and scanning pictures of grandmothers for sister's birthdays. I was also mildly upset at how non-removable some of the nastiness on the scanner bed was though it's gone now thanks to a few screen-wipes stolen from work. Unfortunately it is too late to go back sixteen years with my air-blowing thing and get rid of the film-scratching dust from somewhere in my old camera. Sixteen years also seems to have a strange effect on the white balance of film prints; these have been closed in an album for most of the time but seem to have expanded on the slight overenthusiasm for green they had when first printed.

Amongst the obvious film-costs-money moment-capture attempts I did spot a few pictures extremely similar to the sort of thing I take now including one or two taken for no other reason than the lines (as I had recently wondered) and a couple of low-angle things. Not many, though.

Though there is a distinct risk of sounding twice my age; teenagers with digital cameras: you don't know how lucky you are.