Attempting to Develop 20-Year-Old Disposable Cameras (And Kind of Actually Succeeding)

A 22-year-old photo of a girl drinking a Diet Dr. Pepper.

So my mom texted me a couple of weeks ago and said she found some old rolls of film in a drawer and was mailing them to me. “Maybe you can develop it and see what you get.” Sure, I thought, why not? I had a small clutch of color film I was getting ready to home develop, so I’d just add these to the back of the batch and see.

A few days later here comes the mail with 5 old disposable cameras packed in. I’d never developed disposables before and wasn’t sure what was inside (turns out they’re just normal film canisters. Who knew?). Of the lot, four of the cameras were spooled with 800 ISO film, and one was 400-speed. All were Kodak except one was a CVS-branded canister, so still probably Kodak.

First Friday: Photographs at Grace Ridge Brewing in Homer, Alaska

Pot fishing for grey cod in Kachemak Bay, Alaska. Photo by Clay Duda.
Pot fishing for grey cod in Kachemak Bay, Alaska.

I’m excited to announce that I will have a selection of photographic prints on display for the month of February at Grace Ridge Brewing, 870 Smoky Bay Way in Homer, Alaska. The exhibition kicks off with a “First Friday” opener on Feb. 3, 5-7 p.m.

Appalachian-inspired brooms crafted by Willow Q. Jones will also be on display.

I Call This One “Boy with Areca Palm”

“Boy with Areca Palm.” 2022. Photo by Clay Duda.

I freaking love photographing this kid. My son is 2 1/2 months old in these photos and he makes taking good photographs pretty easy. Plus it’s rewarding as a parent and all that good stuff.

Here he is with an Areca Palm, a plant that wishes it lived in Hawaii and not Alaska this winter. My son might think that too, but so far he seems to like the snow.

A Plastic Camera and Expired Film on the Homer Spit

Driving down a mostly deserted Homer Spit Road in Alaska. Photo by Clay Duda with a Werlisa Color Club on expired Fuji Superia 400 film.
Driving down a mostly deserted Homer Spit Road.

When you’re holding a plastic camera it feels more like playing with a toy than a serious instrument of photography. Probably because it is a toy camera. But shooting with one can lighten the mood and open up new inspirations. The pressure is off. I don’t feel like every frame *has* to count, and sometimes that can lead to taking chances you might not otherwise take.

Another plus (sometimes) is that the results from these toy cameras can be rather unpredictable. Plastic camera bodies are prone to light leaks, and a lot of them have irregular lenses and a fixed aperture. Throw in a roll of expired or color-shifting film, and all bets are off.

Relaunching a Semi-Regular Blog about Film Photography, Life in Alaska, and Growing old and stuff

HOUSE PARTY IN HOMER, ALASKA.

I like to use the Oxford comma. That’s one pet peeve from my journalism days that I still hang on to. It just makes more sense, dammit.

But I don’t work as a journalist anymore. At least not full time, and at least not since 2017. Instead I mostly take tourists halibut fishing out of Homer, Alaska to help pay the bills, and in my spare time I shoot a lot of photos on 35mm and medium format film stock. This is going to be my platform to explore that more, sometimes, like whenever I have time and the mood strikes me, and also ramble about life stuff and Alaska stuff.