photographs are very interesting, and you can look into them a million times and still find a new meaning in them, something in the past that was caught in the film itself...
Alford, Massachusetts: Mandy stood there with her old Nikon film camera, snapping photo after photo of the rural landscape. It was difficult to describe the wonderful feeling of there not being a single cell phone in sight; the only modern technology around was the faint blue glow of a cathode ray tube television in the window of a nearby house, and a few cars and trucks parked in crumbling gravel driveways. She was allowed to see this place, one that would likely be ruined by the 21st century as time went on... places like these were extremely hard to find these days. A world of wood-burning cookstoves and the waxy smell of Paraffin, laundry hung out to dry, rusty steel bridges over streams that reflected the bright blue skies, apple pies left out on windowsills... a world of hard work with very little to show for it aside from the sunlight beaming down on a proud community. And Mandy wanted to trap it all in her Kodak film rolls and rescue it from the future.
"You should find something better to do with your time," Mandy told him. "I spend my time shooting people, and then I take them to darkrooms and blow them up." "...Come again?" Alecto questioned with a tone of alarm in his voice. "I take photographs and develop them myself, I've got my own darkroom... it was a joke," Mandy laughed. "I love photography and I'm gonna be a photojournalist someday." "Really?" Alecto asked. For the first time since she'd met him, he sounded slightly enthusiastic. "...I take photographs and I film my own home movies, I have a darkroom as well... but I can't be a photojournalist like you... I can't be anything... still, at least I can take photographs, it's fun."