The Time Machine in My Hands

How analog photography makes memories last longer than the moment

Today we all carry cameras in our pockets. Every phone can capture hundreds of photos a day, and yes, it’s a gift - we can freeze any moment we want. But here’s the question: are we really living through those moments? Do we keep them as true, precious memories?

As someone drawn to slow living, I see something better: the analog camera.

Remember when film rolls had 12, 24, or 36 shots? Each frame was valuable. You didn’t just click - you decided. One photo could tell the whole story of an event. That was the beauty of analog: the unknown result. The wait. The preparation. The care for the “one and only” shot.

And here’s why I call it a time machine. With analog, you don’t just take a picture - you live the process. You spend time adjusting, waiting, thinking. That effort locks the moment into your memory. Later, when you look at those photos, you don’t just see the past - you return to it.

For the photographer, it’s even more. You set the parameters not with automatic presets, but with knowledge, instinct, and a little intuition. The magic is not just in the final picture. It’s in the motion: the moment, the preparation, the action, and only then - the result.

That is life itself. We move, we prepare, we act, and only then do we see the outcome.

And when I look back, the photos I treasure most are the ones I took on my analog camera. They are fewer, but they mean more. They take me back. They keep time.

In the end, it’s the smallest details that keep time for us.