Is film dead? I don't care. I'm not dead.
I don't care what film costs. I don't care that there's nobody convenient around here to develop it for me. I don't care about its limitations.
I care that film is what it is, and does what it does.
What more can I ask? What more can I desire from it?
It's my death that means my end to film. When I'm dead, I won't be worrying about it much. Until then, I'm alive and film is alive. This medium is alive. It will continue to be alive. Yes, film has had its heyday. But I'm not dead and it's not dead.
Today I bought my first book of street photography. "Vivian Maier, Out of the Shadows." That's the sort of photographs I do, but I like wandering the countryside. Psychotically going out and going out and going out and going out and going out and going out. One roll after another, one sheet after another.
I can't hoard years of film. I can only buy what's available, and use it up, and buy some more next week. Again and again. The only stash I have is of developed negatives. I will feed my Pentax, my Rollei, my Yashica, my Graflex and my Toyo. Again and again.
I'll stop when I drop.
I'll be mellow when I'm dead.