Oh Lomo, I LOVE YOU! Just to prove I’m not all about video and technology. Here’s one of my old school girlfriends back from the dead. To hold, point, and shoot a Diana camera implies a conscious decision to relinquish control. To concentrate your creative powers on capturing the moment and telling a story—rather than [...]
Oh Lomo, I LOVE YOU!
Just to prove I’m not all about video and technology. Here’s one of my old school girlfriends back from the dead.
To hold, point, and shoot a Diana camera implies a conscious decision to relinquish control. To concentrate your creative powers on capturing the moment and telling a story—rather than fiddling with a bunch of knobs and levers. A blurry-soft and dreamy-toned Diana image is more an interpretation of reality than a correct representation of it. In a way, it’s somehow more accurate to compare the Diana to an oily vintage typewriter than to a megapixel machine of today.
YES!
2 Responses
I *loved* my first Lomo.
More than my childhood Sureshot, more than my Rebel, more than the Holgas that came after it, more than any video or film camera I’ve ever touched, and that includes some pretty snazzy Arriflex and Panavision jobs I’ve carried around.
But that Lomo, damn is made beautiful pictures, with incredible colors, long exposures, and the images were just infused with my trust in the light meter inside that machine. So much fun to shoot with that thing in the City.
And then, it broke.
And then my future wife bought me another one.
And it never worked right.
So spurned, I’ve distanced myself from Lomography. And I’m still sad about it. Photoshop actions might do the job, but with no feeling.
And now you pimp this Diana, another tease…
Let me know if she breaks your heart.
Iono if you’re a White Stripes fan (but we like a lot of the same music, so I have a feeling you must be) but they’re doing limited editions of the Diane and Holga… http://www.pitchforkmedia.com/article/news/46345-the-white-stripes-sell-cameras
I’m trying desperately not to open my wallet.