I had almost forgotten how much I love shooting on film. It has been nearly 20 years since I made the transition from film to digital.

Recently, I picked up my old Nikon FM2 and loaded a roll of film that had been sitting quietly in my basement for two decades. I knew it was likely expired. The colors might shift, the tones might soften, and the results would be unpredictable. Still, I chose to embrace it. That simple decision became the beginning of a small, unexpected journey.

I brought the camera with me to an engagement session, then along on a few family trips. With each frame, I found myself slowing down, paying closer attention, and rediscovering the quiet rhythm of shooting on film. There is something deeply intentional about it. Every click carries weight.

For years, I’ve reflected on the differences between digital and film. As film labs gradually disappeared, I fully transitioned to digital, embracing its speed and convenience. My old film camera slowly became a memory. Once a constant companion, it was gently set aside. Until recently.

This 20-year-old film shows gentle color shifts and reduced light sensitivity, yet I’m drawn to the unexpected results and the unique character it brings.

Some say there isn’t much difference between digital and film, aside from not seeing the results immediately. With film, everything must be developed later, and until then, you rely entirely on your knowledge and experience. But that one difference changes everything. It has shaped the way I see and capture moments.

With film, every frame matters. A roll is limited, and that limitation creates intention. It teaches you to slow down, to observe, and to commit. Unlike the burst mode many photographers rely on today, capturing rapid sequences of images, film calls for confidence in a single frame. Even now, in the digital era, I rarely use burst mode. Sometimes I feel that speed alone cannot truly capture the fleeting nature of a moment. More often than not, the first frame is the one that matters most.

Film also demands precision in exposure. Without the safety net of post-production, I learned to read light carefully. Whenever I enter a new space, I instinctively set my exposure, preparing for any moment that might unfold. There is no time to hesitate when something meaningful happens.

When people talk about the “film look,” they often refer to nostalgia. The grain, the color shifts, the imperfections. Today, software can replicate much of that visually. But the essence of film goes far beyond appearance.

Film is organic. It is shaped by unpredictability and nonlinearity. The final image is influenced by many variables, including the age of the film, temperature, and chemical reactions. These are factors that can never be fully controlled.

This reminds me of my experience in graphic design. When choosing a color, I do not rely solely on digital pickers in software like Photoshop. I often turn to color libraries such as Pantone, where colors are curated from real-world references and human perception. These colors feel more natural because they are rooted in experience and observation.

In a similar way, the colors of film feel alive. They are not simply simulated. They are formed through a process shaped by time, imperfection, and chance.

And perhaps that is why, even today, film continues to resonate with me.

Sometimes, a loss of control can be a disguised blessing.

This photograph was taken in New York City, just before dawn. It was still very dark, and my medium format camera was loaded with ISO 400 film. If I had been using a digital camera, I would have instinctively raised the ISO to 1600 to increase the shutter speed and avoid camera shake.

But with film, that option wasn’t available. I opened the aperture as wide as possible and slowed the shutter speed to 1/15.

The result surprised me. It isn’t perfectly sharp, but it holds the movement and energy of the city, set against the quiet stillness of the musician.

The images above were taken during Atheena and Kirk’s engagement session.

Each medium carries its own language. Digital offers precision and flexibility, while film invites patience, trust, and a different kind of presence.

If you’re curious to see how these two approaches come together, you can explore the full comparison here: 

https://www.joieelie.com/blog/bp/how-we-help-you-feel-natural-and-look-your-best-in-photos