The Allure of the Unknown

I find myself drawn to being dropped directly into the center of uncertainty.

A Holga is a plastic toy camera sold for under $50. It features two aperture settings, f/8 and f/11, labeled as cloud (f/8) and sun (f/11) icons on the camera. Additionally, it offers two shutter speed modes: N mode, which is approximately 1/125, and B mode, allowing you to hold the shutter open for as long as you like.

It’s not a versatile camera. It’s not fancy in the slightest. It’s not weatherproof. I use a rubber band to keep the back on tighter. Light leaks are common and honestly, they’re welcomed. Most versions of the camera have a plastic lens, though there is a glass lens option available, but it doesn’t make much difference. In the world of photography, it’s a no-frills, ridiculously cheap, technology-free, borderline useless camera. Truly.

So, why is it my favorite camera? Why is it the one I’ve used the most over the years?

Mostly, I don’t know. There’s a mystical quality about it that I adore wholeheartedly. I’m from Philadelphia— I root for the underdog, and this camera requires a lot of support. I love it for all the so-called "bad" characteristics I listed above except, to me, they aren’t bad at all.

I prefer its lack of versatility because it forces me to think harder and use it more deliberately. I enjoy having only two apertures to work with, and I leave the camera in B (bulb) mode nearly 100% of the time. Why? Because it always delivers a dramatic outcome—an outcome I can never fully predict. I never know how the photographs will turn out, nor if I’ve done anything “correctly.”

I adapt. I learn. I experiment. Most importantly, I fail. And I fail often.

The photographs featured in this newsletter are “failures” from a recent roll of film for a series I’m currently finalizing. To this day, I still don’t know what went wrong. Yes, with a Holga, you manually advance the film, which makes double exposures easy to create intentionally. But that’s not the whole story here. You can also accidentally advance too far or not far enough, leading to unintentional double exposures— which is what happened in these images.

What’s perplexing is that I made this error on every single frame of the entire roll. In over 15 years of photography, I’ve never done that. Not once. It’s practically impossible to make the same mistake so consistently. So, I’m left without a full explanation.

And honestly, it doesn’t matter.

Messing up is a part of life. The obvious metaphor here is simple to see— something about “learning from your failures.” It’s easy to grasp, and I do agree. Failure is a true path to growth. But here’s the thing: I’ve been using this camera for years and my knowledge of it is vast. I know what I’m doing, and I know how to achieve the look I want. At this stage, failure while using this camera is rare.

What I’m after now is the unknown.

I’m often asked after a session, or even during if I’m happy with what I’ve captured—photographically speaking. My answer is almost always, “I have no idea,” or something along those lines. I love that response because it’s completely honest: I truly don’t know.

The allure of this particular camera, this medium even, lies in the unknown. It’s vast, unpredictable, and filled with opportunities for things to go wrong. Strangely enough, I find myself drawn to being dropped directly into the center of this uncertainty. I thrive on challenges, I embrace adaptation, and I desire to create something from seemingly nothing.

The camera is an unknown, the expired and rare film stock I use is an unknown, and the setting I choose is (usually) unknown. I am drawn to the unknown and in that world there lies so much possibility. That possibility, that prospect of making something unique, is incredibly alluring.

---

My Substack is currently free and will remain free, however, I am now offering a member plan that will give you early access to full series releases, discounts, and early access to all artwork and print releases, full archives, additional behind-the-scenes photos and video, and access to private group discussions. It’s just a small way to support me in doing what I love. And again, my free plan will always be available as it’s important to me to be able to share what I create with everyone. If you’d like to become a member, just click the button below…