For the longest time, I’ve hesitated to dive into the film vs digital debate. Maybe “debate” isn’t even the right word because the polarization surrounding this topic can be downright off-putting. It’s as though discussing this topic invites a torrent of hateful comments, filled with dogmatic opinions that lead nowhere. Yet, here I am, taking the plunge—because there’s something about this conversation that’s worth having, beyond the noise.
Here’s the thing: how you see is far more important than what you photograph it with. The medium, whether film or digital, is secondary to your vision. Don’t get me wrong—there’s a beautiful romance to shooting with film. The tactile feeling of loading a roll is unique. The satisfying click of the shutter is another joy, especially that of the Nikon F3 shutter. The anticipation builds as you wait for your film to return or develop. There’s nothing quite like it. That nostalgia is undeniably special. You take deliberate care not to waste a frame. There’s thoughtfulness that comes with using film. And yes, there’s a timeless, almost magical quality that film can bring to your work. Film can show light, color, and mood in ways that evoke an era. It brings a feeling or a sense of nostalgia that is hard to replicate digitally.
People often think of digital cameras and imagine the rapid-fire shutter. They think about the ability to shoot endless frames in mere moments. They also consider the ease of erasing what doesn’t make the cut. But what if we saw these tools not just for their speed, but as an opportunity for a meditative practice? It’s all about how you use them.
Just because your digital camera can churn out image after image at lightning speed does not mean it has to. You, the photographer, are in control of your creative process. The camera is merely a tool, one that serves your vision—not the other way around. Do not let the sheer technological power dictate the pace of your shooting. You can consciously slow down. Immerse yourself in the scene.
Much like film photography, where every shot matters, digital photography can also be a deliberate process. Every step can be intentional. You frame the shot and wait for the light to develop. This evokes a sense of mood. Then, you choose the perfect moment to press the shutter. With each press of the button, you decide how to interact with your subject. You choose how to capture its essence. You decide how to tell a story.
There’s something almost meditative about this approach. In slowing down, you become more aware of your surroundings. You start noticing how light filters through the trees. You see the subtle play of shadows on the ground. You notice the fleeting expression on a person’s face. You engage all your senses. You listen to the quiet sounds. You feel the texture of the air. You even absorb the emotional atmosphere of the moment.
But honestly, vision trumps medium every single time. Knowing how I see the world, understanding what I want to capture, and, most importantly, what I want to convey—that’s the core of photography. Whether I’m using film or digital, my intention and my creative process define the final image. The camera, film, or sensor do not determine it. Throughout the years, I’ve experimented with countless cameras and lenses. I’ve shot with an Olympus OM1. I’ve poured my heart into capturing moments with my beloved Nikon F3. Now, I focus on what I consider my personal holy grail. This is the Nikon Df paired with the awesome Nikkor 58mm F/1.4 and my 50R and Mitakon 65mm.
There’s a unique connection I feel with my gear, and yet, it’s not the gear that makes me a photographer. The process itself slows me down. It makes me pause and forces me to refine my vision. It is the dance between light, composition, and the story I’m trying to tell. That process does not depend on whether I’m shooting film. It depends on my understanding of the art and craft of photography.
Photography, at its core, is a meditative act. It’s about being present, seeing the world with intention, and bringing something uniquely yours into existence. That feeling of fulfillment? It doesn’t come from the brand of film you’re using or the specs of your digital sensor. It comes from creating something that resonates deeply within you, that feels true to your vision.
Kodak, Fujifilm, Nikon, or any other manufacturer—none of them make me an artist. My vision, imagination, and purpose are what define me as a photographer.
At the end of the day, what really matters is what we do with the moments we capture. These photos, these visual memories, become part of the tactile legacy we leave behind. So, whether you shoot film or digital, remember that it’s about creating something meaningful—something that lasts.
Go out, make memories that matter, and create photographs that resonate. In the end, it’s not the camera that matters. It’s the vision behind the lens and the memories we share with others.
