This is a guest post written by Aarathi Edward, an avid photographer and media relations expert. She is totally in love with the film dark-room and has, at my behest, consented to share the magic that she experienced when first introduced to the gloomy, un-illuminated side of photography.

Photo: WhiskygonebadThe first time I really took notice of a photograph was when I was about 8 or 9 and my Dad had taken a picture of my sister sitting on a tree. Looking at it, you could make out just what kind of person my sister is - prim and proper (even then – on a tree; aged 12 or 13) and always responsible.

I later found another one he had taken when we were much younger. This was also a posed photograph; not much scope for creativity – and yet, he managed to catch the little imp dancing in my eyes with the mischievous tilt of the head and the responsible, seriousness that always was my older sister (she has lightened up a lot in the last 5 years though). One glance at this picture and you knew which kid was the brat and which one the good child.

I think you get by now what I’m driving at. It always amazed me how just one static, two dimensional 5×8 frame could tell so much. Dad’s old Yashica