I’m a little embarrassed to admit it, but in my studio mini-fridge, up until last week, there was a box full of exposed rolls of film waiting to be developed for more than 5 years. The undeveloped film was not forgotten - the fridge has a clear window so those little rolls,  wound-up with who-knows-what kind of treasures inside them, were staring at me, taunting me on the regular.

When I started shooting film again in the pre-pandemic years, I would send the rolls out to a boutique lab in BC and they would develop it and send me digital scans back. But sadly, somewhere in the mess of 2020/2021, they closed down. I had some experience developing film in my youth, but hadn’t attempted it in decades, so I felt overwhelmed with the idea of adding another step into a creative activity that was really just for me/just for fun - not a source of income. I was already struggling to find time to fit these fun shoots in between client work while keeping my business afloat through a global pandemic. Then Conor, my hero, saved the day. He stepped up, always in support of my creative whims, and learned to develop my film at home, so the rolls kept getting developed for a wee while.

But, as you may know, we also started the seedling of a whole new business in those same years. As Lovely grew and Conor’s plate became extremely full, I told him not to worry about the film any longer. I intended to take over the developing duties myself and I kept shooting a roll here and there, but as business was picking back up for me as well, I felt less free to play. So that little stack of rolls sat there, waiting for their big moment, and time did its incredible thing of zooming by at ever-increasing speeds.

Cut to: 5 (maybe even 6?) years later... A few weeks ago - just home from our fall trip, the first thing on my list was to create my 2027 calendar. I sat at my computer, sorting through the artsy corner of my portfolio, gathering the most recent still life work I’d made, and then for some reason, I came across an older folder in the mix. It was full of film scans, a handful of which were flowers or still life work. Looking at those photos, which were shot on a vintage hand-me-down Hasselblad, my heart fluttered. Most of them were from shoots where I’d also made digital photos, so the scenes were familiar, but they had their own magic, slightly less polished and more mysterious. I was a little sad that these photos were sitting there on my hard drive, and hadn’t been shared at all, and it struck me that my calendar might be the perfect avenue for them to see the light of day. But alas, there weren’t enough great images there. Good thing I had saved those 10 rolls in the fridge for this very moment! :P

The idea of creating something a little more analog, with slow, hand-done processes feels even more important now than it always has. We’re in a strange time, where very refined imagery is being created by generative a.i. using just a few words fed into a machine (and of course an innumerable number of works stolen from generations of artists, but that’s a whole other blog post.) 

I spent my evenings the following week relearning the process of developing film. I ordered some fresh chemicals and practiced rolling an old strip of film onto a developing reel in the pitch black. I felt like a beginner chemist, mixing up beakers of different potions and anxiously trying to keep everything at just the right temperature. I wasn’t sure I’d have enough usable images from those rolls to complete a collection for the calendar, but I was having so much fun going through this process to find out.

I’m happy to report that I successfully developed all the rolls, mostly colour and a couple b&w, and uncovered a few gems to complete my calendar collection. The whole process was just the kind of inspiration I needed - a little spark in a bit of a dull season as we wait for the cozy charm of winter to properly arrive.  

My 2027 calendar features 13 images which were all shot on film - a mix of colour and b&w still life scenes. The photographs are full of ‘imperfections’ like grain, dust, and light leaks. I feel that these elements give the photographs life, in a way that most perfectly refined digital images rarely have. And something a little different this year - I’ve included a short personal note with each of the photos to further share their stories with you. 

The calendar is titled “Grainy Days” and it is officially available to order.

I hope it brings a little magic into your home throughout the year!