something feels off with my photography

Oh how I wish I could get into film photography.

My Ricoh GR IV treats me amazingly well. It’s tiny, the lens is razor-sharp, and it’s way more intentional than firing off endless iPhone bursts. I end up with far fewer shots (in a good way) overall, yet after ~1000 frames in my first month, only a handful feel like true keepers. Nothing is “wrong” with the camera, it’s just too easy in a way that makes everything feel a little flat.

Something is missing.

I can’t quite put my finger on it, but the process lacks weight. Every shot is effortless to compose, review, adjust, reshoot. There’s no real consequence, no anticipation, no ritual. Even when I try to be deliberate, the digital safety net lets “good enough” sneak in.

This feeling kicked off from watching MKBHD’s The Studio channel, which introduced me to David Imel, the writer and producer at MKBHD. I love how David talks about cameras, both digital and film, with such passion and knowledge. He got me really interested in photography, more so than I had ever been, and he’s also the one who introduced me to film photography. That led me to Grainydays’ photography vlogs, where David has appeared as well. What hooked me is the vibe and process of photography on their roadtrips: the casual yet intentional shooting while exploring landscapes, the excitement of choosing film stocks and capturing moments on long drives, the mechanical clunk of a real shutter, the magic of different film stocks turning the same scene into something entirely new, the forced mindfulness of only having a limited number of chances per roll.

Film promises what digital sometimes lacks: real intentionality. You’re limited, so you have to think harder, pre-visualize, choose your film stock. The wait for scans builds excitement. And that tactile stuff of loading the roll, advancing the film, hearing the actual shutter feels like technology from a time when photos mattered more.

And the payoff? Those organic, imperfect looks that digital tries to emulate but rarely nails. Film stocks can completely transform a vibe, like the creamy, forgiving tones of Kodak Portra 400, or the cinematic halation of Cinestill 800T.

I’ve yet to shoot a single roll of film. It’s still in the daydream stage. The biggest hold-ups are time (life’s busy right now) and money (film + developing/scanning adds up pretty quickly). But the pull is very strong.

Maybe I’ll start small with a cheap, reliable 35mm SLR like a Canon AE-1 or Pentax K1000, a couple rolls of Portra or Ektachrome, and see if that “something” clicks.

Either way, I’m chasing that feeling. Because right now, something feels off and I think film might be the fix.