In the world of film, perfection doesn’t exist — and that’s the point. Every roll carries a trace of risk. A flicker of light might slip past a seal. A frame might shift by a fraction. Grain might swell unexpectedly in the shadows. These are not errors to correct. They’re the heartbeat of something real.

At Liquid Light Whisperer, those marks of imperfection aren’t flaws. They’re fingerprints — small proofs that every image was made by hand, in light, with care, and without the safety net of an undo option.

Shooting with film doesn’t just change how a photographer works — it changes how a model experiences the shoot. For someone used to digital cameras firing hundreds of frames a minute, the film process feels different: slower, more deliberate, sometimes even unnerving at first.

That’s why setting expectations is crucial. When a model understands what film brings — the rhythm, the limitations, the rituals — it transforms the session from uncertainty into collaboration. At Liquid Light Whisperer, this conversation happens before the first roll is loaded, because trust is as important as light.

Digital photography gave us precision, speed, and infinite repetition. It perfected the technical image — but in doing so, it stripped away something that analog never lost: a sense of life.

Film photography endures because it feels different. It slows us down, resists instant gratification, and produces images with texture and presence. In a world of disposable content, film stands out as something alive.

When an image is exposed on film, it isn’t yet a photograph. It lives invisibly in the emulsion, suspended between existence and nothingness — a latent ghost of light. At this stage it can still be erased, fogged, or lost entirely, but it is there, waiting. Only when it meets developer does it reveal itself, and only when it meets fixer is it frozen forever. That alchemy — the moment when something ephemeral becomes permanent — is what makes film different. Memory doesn’t just appear; it is conjured, stabilised, and preserved.

The AGO Film Processor bridges home development and lab-level consistency. From 510 Pyro to C-41 and ECN-2, it saves chemistry, compensates for temperature drift, and delivers repeatable, professional results at home. Not perfect, but a game-changer for anyone serious about film developing.

Lomography UK recently reached out to me with an exciting proposition: test and review a prototype of their new Daylight Development Tank.

Ilford Delta 3200 has long been my film of choice for capturing intimate, atmospheric moments in low-light scenarios. There is an unmistakable magic that emerges when you push a high-ISO black-and-white emulsion like Delta 3200 to its limits.

Every great journey begins with a spark. In this case, it started as a simple phone call: Craig Sheffer—star of A River Runs Through It, directed by Robert Redford and co-starring Brad Pitt—invited me on a road trip to commemorate the film’s 30th anniversary.

Lomography’s Babylon 13 is already known as a strikingly low ISO black-and-white film, but pushing it further by rating it at ISO 6—or even ISO 3—invites a whole new level of experimentation for those of us who love the slow, methodical pace of analogue photography.

In an era dominated by instant digital results, film photography offers a tangible connection to the artistic process. Each roll is a journey—focused on mindful composition, thoughtful metering, and the craft of chemical development. The grain, the colour rendering, and even the minor imperfections all add character, reminding us that photography is more than just pressing the camera shutter button.