Not so long ago, before selfies, Facebook or Instagram, documenting trips to far flung corners of the world involved carrying a trusted pocket camera or maybe an SLR with a couple of expensive lenses. Once the voyage was over, the wait began. No uploading your photos to social media with a flick of the finger. No choosing among dozens of filters in a matter of seconds or cropping your photos on the fly. The wait – what a quaint concept!
It might have taken a week, maybe two, but the moment you picked up your slides and held them up to the light, hoping to find an image that captured that magic moment, maybe even the essence of your trip is now just a faded memory.
All the photos on these walls, except for two, are testaments to those analog days, Kodachrome or Velvia slivers of the places I visited and in some cases marked me in a very profound way. A sacred Mayan ceremony in the highlands of Guatemala, a lonely boat plying the waters of the Andaman Sea, a couple in love in the streets of San Cristóbal de las Casas. Images that didn’t reveal themselves immediately, but over time have become my own version of those timeless, sometimes worn or faded postcards or postales.