Sunday, February 22, 2026

The Photo Lab: Building community, one print at a time


Long before our phones could instantly show us every photograph we take, we had to develop the film inside our camera before seeing what images we captured.

And while many of us just dropped off that mystery mix of magic and mistakes somewhere that could churn out both negatives and prints in about an hour, my father always took his film rolls to a local photo lab for more personalized service.

That was cool.

Because I loved going to the photo lab with my father when I was a kid. I can still hear the bell ring on the door, smell the chemicals in the air and feel the anticipation as we waited for someone to emerge from the back for my favorite part: Pulling out the magnifying tool for our first glimpse of the negatives.

Because as much as I loved just looking at my father’s photographs, I loved even more getting to see how they were brought to life, feeling very adult as I soaked in every step of the process from deciding which frames to print and how to make them look their best. 

And though the exchanges at the photo lab were technically business transactions, with my father trying to make a living as a professional photographer and the lab tech performing a job, their interactions always felt less about money and more about art to me: Two craftspeople working together to make the best product possible, each knowing that they couldn’t do their best work without the other. 

And I felt a bit of that artistic camaraderie again recently when a photo lab in San Francisco started printing a magazine. Yes, in this day of social media posts that last maybe seconds, this lab decided to post permanent photographs in the form of an actual printed magazine.

“We wanted to make a magazine to foster more connection in the community we’ve built with so many photographers over the many years Photoworks has been around," said Rhonda Smith, explaining that she and her co-workers were “definitely inspired by Pamplemousse, a magazine founded by a former Photoworks employee.”

Each time Photoworks has asked people to submit photos for these guest magazines, Smith, who served as senior editor, curator and interviewer for the lab’s third magazine, said “we have gotten a couple hundred submissions, with the second edition receiving nearly 500 submissions.”

When asked how many copies they print, she said that number is based on how many photographers are featured in each magazine “and the amount we could realistically sell and be able to break even on production costs. Also as those of us who work on the magazine are also doing our every day tasks in the store, it can take longer than we plan to finish it, but we do hope to have two annually.”

You can certainly argue that such an endeavor is far from altruistic, likely ultimately launched as another way to make money; but everyone with a photograph featured in the magazine was offered a free copy, allowing each person to see their artwork published in a high-quality product full of beautiful and interesting photographs, which is an exhilarating experience no matter how, or how many times, it happens.

And having a print product feels almost revolutionary in today's world, where we keep getting more connected than ever in all the ways that don't matter, while feeling less and less connected in all the ways that do matter: those tangible, tactile ways of meeting face-to-face, shaking hands, and even sharing a drink or a meal together.

Which is exactly what happened when the magazine was celebrated with a launch party, a gathering of real people in real time instead of in a digital post that people scroll past and forget even before the next post appears. And standing there by a counter to pick up my magazine with the smell of chemicals in the air, surrounded by photographs and photographers, reminded me of how I first fell in love with taking pictures: Going to the photo lab with my father.*

That was super cool.

See more of the magazine in my ode to old-school media in the video below:


Another photographer whose love for the art form was inspired by his father is my friend Nathan, who will forever love traveling and taking pictures because of the road trips his father took him on after they finally met.

* My father's birthday was this month, so I would like to wish the man who always encouraged me to both form and express my own opinions on everything a very happy birthday, and to thank him again for introducing me to the wonderful world of photography.

Monday, February 16, 2026

Movies I saw in January: Send Help, Anora, Blink Twice

I didn’t see many movies in January, but those I did watch packed a surprisingly satisfying punch; all three featured women defying the control of others to carve new paths for their lives, with most carving those paths straight through their captors with very sharp knives. 

That was cool.

And while my favorite movie of the trio features a woman realizing that the VIP club she desperately wants to join is just a gilded cage, my favorite character was a woman suddenly released from her cage of conformity and quickly realizing her true talents lie in plotting revenge, not playing nice.

January’s movies:

1. Anora (On DVD rented from library, 1/10/2026) Grade: A

Last year I was disappointed that Demi Moore didn’t win an Oscar for her work in “The Substance,” but after finally seeing “Anora,” I full embrace the Best Actress win by Mikey Madison. Not only did I believe every moment of her portrayal, I would have given her the statue just for the screaming fit she throws to keep two men from containing her, as their response to her full-bodied revolt created one of the funniest scenes I have ever watched.

And that comedy came at just the right time, for I was about to give up on this movie that lifts bits of plot and dialog from “Pretty Woman,” but little else from that fairytale. Because while the 1990 movie was essentially a rom-com/Cinderella story with just a side of sex work ordered from the kids menu, “Anora” has our main character’s body being rented by a man with far more realistic demands than Richard Gere’s too-driven-to-date businessman.

The resulting debauchery and disrespect inflicted on our heroine in this movie almost had me turning it off, but I am very glad I stuck with this slow-burning love story, which I not only found more realistic, but far more satisfying, than the nearly squeaky clean “Pretty Woman.”

2. Blink Twice (On DVD rented from the library, 1/17/2026) Grade: B+

I’ll admit it, I picked “Blink Twice” off the shelves because Channing Tatum was on the DVD cover. And knowing really nothing else about this movie, I was pleasantly surprised at how much I enjoyed it despite Tatum playing almost a bit part.

To avoid giving away too much of the plot, I’ll just describe “Blink Twice” as a nice mix of Fantasy Island and Get Out (and did I detect a dash of that creepy movie in which director Zoe Kravitz’s mom starred called Angel Heart?) that delivered an impressively edited feast of sounds, music and visuals that kept my attention far more competently than “Him,” which failed to create even a fraction of the “what the heck is happening?!” ambiance this movie deftly maintains throughout.

3. Send Help (In the theater, 1/31/2026) Grade: C

The best thing about this movie was Rachel McAdams, which was another surprise because I’d never quite warmed to her before. But here she exudes the perfect mix of cheerful-yet-creepy as a ridiculed outcast who suddenly gains power and popularity when civilization collapses around her. The only actress I’ve seen doing that role better these days is Christina Ricci in “Yellowjackets.”

But overall, the movie felt like a mediocre mix of the two great movies “Cast Away” and “Misery,” since it pales in comparison to both. My favorite parts of “Cast Away” are watching Tom Hanks opening packages, learning to fish and build a fire, but this movie decides not to show us much of how Linda adapts to the island she is dropped on, preferring instead to linger on her punishing her former boss. 

Yet unlike “Misery,” when it came time for any actual torture, “Send Help” shies away from Linda physically maiming her boss unlike Kathy Bates’ Annie does to her captive, instead deciding to linger far too long on our two main characters squabbling with decidedly uninteresting chemistry, and mysteriously having the most violent scene not even featuring a human victim. 

As someone who can definitely identify with Linda's inability to adapt to “polite society,” I wanted this movie to get far more detailed and depraved that it dared, and wish a director like David Fincher had been hired to relish in showing us exactly how Linda realizes her full potential.


Finally, here are the movies my grandmother saw in January of 1996:


Thursday, Jan. 4

Up 6:30, tea, breakfast McDonald’s.

Debbie and I to show, “The City of Lost Children.” French, very weird!


Sunday, Jan. 7

Thought to have haircut, he not there. Home, watered houseplants.

To “Toy Story.” Good.


Tuesday, Jan. 9

Breakfast Carl’s Jr., walked mall, Lilly passed test at DMV.

To show, “Waiting to Exhale.” Stupid, I thought.


Thursday, Jan. 11

Longs, Xerox gone. Wrote Mina, to Kinkos to copy Stimson's letter.

To deli, got sandwich. To show, “12 Monkeys.” Brad Pitt is paranoid, good acting.


Saturday, Jan. 13

Played La Boheme, some TV.

Watched “All the Mornings of the World.” French. Lovely color!


Monday, Jan. 15

To show, “Tom and Huck.” Better than I thought.

Ate Wendy’s, brought home salad.


Friday, Jan. 19

To show, “Sense and Sensibility.”

Post office, mailed pictures to Justine. 

Home to find letter from Justine, no email luck. She taking International Communications.


Saturday, Jan. 20, 1996

To mall, post office, library, returned two books + records. Read Newsweek.

To show, “From Dusk til Dawn.” Special effects!


Monday, Jan. 22, 1996

To show, “Dead Man Walking.” Sean Penn, Susan Sarandon. Good.

Mail: letter from Mina, $103.88 from Colonial Penn.


Friday, Jan. 26, 1996

To show, “12 Monkeys,” second time. Understood better, not completely.

Kmart Scotts Valley, got more chicken.