Hey internet. Travis here, and it’s confession time: I’m kind of a junk junkie. No, I’m not talking about junk food, I’m talking about pure, unadulterated junk. Stuff that belongs in…well, belongs nowhere, because it’s no good anymore.
Case in point – in our garage, I have an old gutted shell of a TV from the early 50’s. I found it in a pile of junk on one of my quests to get lost, and even though it was really weathered and had white bird poop on one side, I thought it was kind of neat so I loaded it in back of the Jeep and brought it home…and let me tell you, Laura was pretty excited when she saw it. After I introduced her and the faded brown TV box with bird poop on one side, this is how the conversation went:
Laura, (kind of cute but kind of grossed out look on her face) “What do you want to do with this again?”
Me, excited and talking fast, “I’mgoingtomountaphotowherethescreenusedtobeandBACKLIGHTit!!! ItwillbeAWESOME!!!”
Anyway, so I guess I should clarify – if you dropped a big pile of junk off at my doorstep (please don’t do that), I’d probably not dive in and swim in it or anything. Maybe I would if it were old VW bus parts. Maybe. Really though, I guess I’m only a junk junkie only when I can see something in the junk that can remake it into something unique and awesome, giving it new life and simultaneously un-junkifying it.
That was a long introduction to a short post, and maybe I already lost you – if so, just look at the photo below and know that Laura and I just got a new camera, and get excited about it because we will probably shoot a crazy photo of you with it sometime soon.
For those of you still with me, the story goes like this:
I left the grocery store one afternoon, and somewhere deep down the junk monster started growling, needing to be satiated. No interesting piles of junk were in sight, and I knew that the monster needed to be fed. So I says to myself, I says: “There’s a thrift store just down the street! Maybe there’s some cool junk there!” and off I went.
I walked in, and the first glass cabinet I looked into held was a neat, vintage Polaroid camera – bellows and all. I asked to look at it, and while the lady was opening the back of the cabinet I noticed a little rectangular box next to the Polaroid with a $30 price tag on it. I asked what it was, and the lady said “I think it’s a camera.” Starting to get excited, I asked to see it, but couldn’t get it open. I could tell it was old by the worn leather edges of the box, and finally found a secret button, and lo and behold, look what popped out:
I tried to hide my excitement – I bought it on the spot, of course, and have been more or less in love ever since. It is a Voigtlander Avus, a medium format 6x9cm, circa 1930. We cut some film for it in the darkroom a few days ago and loaded 5 or so plates, and I’m excited to use it to capture some shots of our upcoming clients with it! So cool.
And the monster was satisfied…for now. The end.